Resolve III
by Ori Klossner
Summary: AU: Book III - In the wake of the attack on the Jedi Order, and the consequences thereof, Obi-Wan Kenobi finds himself questioning the very foundations of his life, of the Order he calls home, and of the Force itself.
1. Chapter 1

I'm a day early because I don't currently have power at home. Hopefully it gets fixed soon, but if my updates are ever late, it's due to factors outside my control.

* * *

A few things to note: This is the third and final book of Resolve. For each book I experimented with a different writing method. This last one was written with much less planning than the previous two. I always knew where I wanted the story to go, but getting there ended up being a very organic process. Much of what happens in book III came as a surprise to me, even as I was writing it. This book also contains a lot of things I referenced from legends content. If your experience with Star Wars is limited to the films, you may find some events in this book to be far-fetched.

As a general reminder, Resolve has always been about Obi-Wan's journey. We will see Anakin again, but not until around chapter 5-6. And while he will come and go within the story after that point, he is very important to the conclusion.

Get ready for nearly 90 000 words to follow. This is the longest book and I hope it is a satisfying read. If this weren't fanfiction I would likely have spent weeks or even months revising this, but I think it's time to put it to bed and move on to other things.

Resolve III is 18 chapters long and I will continue with my weekend update schedule. If I calculated correctly it means the final chapter will be up on May 11th.

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

1.

He'd long since grown used to the darkness that now surrounded him in near permanence. The rattling of chains and the keening of the fearful he'd also grown used to. He'd even grown used to the daily abuses of his captors.

Some days they wouldn't even give him a single drop of water, leaving him with a throat so dry he might as well have been stranded on the dunes of Tatooine. On others they would feed him, only to beat him later. He showed no anger, because he barely felt its tainting touch. It was what it was, and think hard as he might he knew he would not get loose without the perfect opportune moment. And that moment had not yet come. Perhaps it never would.

He accepted this, because he was a Jedi. And becoming frustrated or angry, or losing hope would not bring a solution to his predicament.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. He barely noticed the musty odour of his cell. In the middle of the hard duracrete box he sat with legs outstretched in front of him. His hands rested flat on the ground outside his thighs, his bare arms straining as he pushed his full weight onto them, raising his legs off the floor.

Every muscle in his body engaged as he slowly pushed from seated position through to a perfectly stable stance on his hands. With eyes closed he held the position, not bothering to count. Shifting his weight and the position of his legs, Obi-Wan slowly leaned more on his left hand, until he could lift his right off the ground entirely. Steady he stood, again not bothering to count. He brought his right hand back to the ground then, and repeated the one-handed stance on the other side.

He may have been a prisoner, but he would not let his body wither in the enclosed space of his cell. Sluggish as the Force ran through him, with the inhibiting drugs they plunged into his veins each cycle, his connection was still strong enough to, in the most efficient way possible, harness the energy of every scrap of food he was given.

Obi-Wan stayed strong, and he waited.

The Zygerian guards looked upon him with disdain, some with fear. Not once had he fought back, but not once had he yielded either. Perhaps that was what frightened them so. They were incapable of breaking him down the way they broke other beings.

He was a mountain, and over time their winds may reshape his surface, but they would never move him.

No, the darkness didn't bother him. One did not need to see the daylight to know that it was there. And just so, one did not need to feel the Force to know that it was there. That had been his greatest struggle. His first days as a captive were blurred together. He remembered only bits and pieces from those drug-addled days.

He remembered two men and a ship, and little else until he woke in a Zygerian slave vessel, tied and collared. The Force had been nearly absent then. Only a faint glimmer, one he could feel but not reach out to, remained. Over time his body built a resistance to the drugs, and he could now levitate the dented cup that sometimes bore water for him to drink. He was careful to hide his prowess from the guards, lest they adjust the dosage or change drugs entirely.

Obi-Wan had no sense of how long he'd been in captivity, other than to judge the length of his hair and beard. It had become quite unruly, and he had not even a simple tie to tame the thick mess. But improvisation was an essential skill to a Jedi, so one day Obi-Wan simply used his teeth to tear a strip of cloth from his ragged pants, and used it to draw the thick locks into a knot at the back of his head.

The distant sound of a durasteel door sliding open brought Obi-Wan's strength training to a halt. He slowly lowered himself to the ground, then scooted back into the corner. He leaned against the cold stone and feigned sleep.

Footsteps, four sets from what Obi-Wan could discern, pattered down the hallway that stretched out in front of his accommodations. He'd not heard a single guard in quite some time. Droids came and went, as they deposited scraps of food or water through the slit in the door, but living beings only made their way down that way for two reasons; either to torment or to remove.

Obi-Wan was under no illusions about what happened there. The ones who were taken were likely sold, and the ones who couldn't be sold were sent to work in mines. And when they could no longer mine they were killed. He only wondered why they'd kept him for so long. Many beings had come and gone in other cells while Obi-Wan patiently waited in his little box of involuntary solitude.

The footsteps stopped outside his cell.

Obi-Wan remained where he sat, leaning against the wall and pretending unconscious bliss even as the door slid open. The flood of light caused an ache to form behind his eyes, even through closed lids.

One of the guards muttered something, and a moment later Obi-Wan jerked in reflex as a bucket of water was emptied over his form. He choked back a gasp at the frigid sensation. The torn, sleeveless shirt he wore clung to his body, his hair dripped water into his face and down his back, and his pants grew heavy as the cloth soaked up the moisture.

The only dry part of him that remained was his throat, and only his immaculate self-control kept him from sucking the water out of his clothes. He hadn't been given a sip of water in what felt like days, but he would not give these men the satisfaction.

"Get up, slave," one of the guards said.

"Do I have to?" Obi-Wan asked, his voice rough from dryness, but the cheek in his tone suffered not the same fate. "I was just beginning to get comfortable here."

One of the guards stomped forward and shoved the pommel of his inactive vibroblade against Obi-Wan's ribs. "Get up!" He growled in Obi-Wan's ear.

Resisting the urge to rub the sore spot, Obi-Wan pushed off against the wall and got to his feet. The guard shoved him in the back towards the door, and Obi-Wan had to squint as he exited the dark cell and entered the corridor.

It was too bright. He kept a hand above his eyes as they walked, preventing most of the rays from striking his light-sensitive retinas. Again, Obi-Wan wondered how long he'd been their prisoner.

Allowing the guards to guide him with rough hands on his shoulders, Obi-Wan kept his eyes on his feet. More so to avoid the light than in any sign of submission. He studied his bare feet and noticed the uneven toenails. He'd had to resort to biting them back when they grew too long. That in itself should have told Obi-Wan that he'd been stuck there for quite some time. Toe nails grew rather slowly, after all.

Obi-Wan sniffed. He was rather disgusted with the state of his toes.

 _At least my box has a toilet,_ Obi-Wan mused. _I've not yet been driven to the point of base barbarism._

He thought of Silman, and the almost ten years of captivity the man had endured at the hands of the Pyke Syndicate. The man had lost hold of his mind, and Obi-Wan wondered if the same would happen to him. Perhaps it had and he simply was incapable of noticing. But no, somehow he knew he would endure where Silman had broken.

He was a Jedi.

Obi-Wan took no pride in his own strength and fortitude, but he knew himself. He knew he would not break as Silman had. There was simply too much at stake, and he could not afford to lose his way—or his mind—when the Jedi Order needed him most.

On numerous occasions his captors had attempted to convince him that he was the last member of a dead Order. He did not believe them, because he knew he would have _felt_ something if that were true. He would have felt it in the Force, as he had felt Qui-Gon slip into its embrace upon his death, and as he had felt the lives of Jedi leave their mortal bodies in the battle at the Jedi Temple.

No, he did not believe their stories.

Rough stone beneath Obi-Wan's bare feet turned smooth as the corridor gave way to an elegant hallway. He could see his own reflection in the marble floors—no doubt polished to such sheen by droids—and could not help the amused grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. The beard had grown rather ridiculous, and made him look like the primitive men he'd seen in old history texts.

Bearing the ache in his eyes he dropped his hand and took in his surroundings. The sharp geometry of Zygerian architecture stood in contradiction to the flow of Jedi structure. Nevertheless, Obi-Wan could appreciate the beauty in it.

Gold pillars, accented with deep reds and greens, paved the way to a large chamber. Chairs lined the walls, and in the centre stood a small dais. The guards led him to the small platform, and forced him to stand upon it. They each took position at a corner then, facing him with their weapons held ready as deterrent against trying anything.

 _So,_ Obi-Wan thought, _I'm to be inspected by a potential buyer then._

It would have bothered most beings, but Obi-Wan was far from typical. He saw opportunity in this. If he played his cards right he could forge a way to freedom for himself. He needed to get back to the Jedi, but he knew he would have to do it in small steps.

Scant minutes had passed when the enormous double-doors on the opposite end of the room opened upon their hydraulic hinges. A human man in an elegant black cloak strode in. Obi-Wan immediately noticed the sharp edge to the man's gaze. He was a predator, used to standing at the top of the hierarchy. His black hair was shorn short at the sides, and the longer strands at the top were combed back elegantly, spiking up at the front where the hairs were more stubborn. His short chinstrap beard was trimmed to perfection, framing a chiselled face that held a set of brown eyes so pale they almost looked a sickly yellow.

Obi-Wan did not need the Force to sense the man's purpose was fuelled by the deepest greed.

Beside the man walked a Zygerian trader, gesturing animatedly as he spoke. Flanking them on either side was another guard formation. Six men in all, but they were foreign to Zygeria. Their dark-grey uniforms, trimmed with red stitching that mirrored the human man's elegant dress, suggested to Obi-Wan they were in the man's employment. There was structure there, and that implied competence.

 _Who is this man?_ Obi-Wan wondered.

"Is this it?" The man drawled as he stepped up onto the dais in front of Obi-Wan. His voice was a deep baritone, but he spoke only loud enough to be heard. His right hand loosely rested on a cane made of black ivory, and it was clear that he did not need it for walking. Obi-Wan judged the man to be in his late twenties, and in peek health based on the man's broad-shouldered build.

"Yes, sir," the Zygerian trader said. "This is the Jedi we acquired eighteen months ago."

It took all Obi-Wan's self-control not to react to those words. He knew he'd been stuck there, isolated from the going-ons of the galaxy for some time, but he never expected it to be such an extraordinary length of time. And as that thought left it was replaced by questions. Were the Jedi safe? Was Palpatine still in power? Did the Republic even function still?

A prod on his left arm brought Obi-Wan back to the present moment. He pushed his questions aside and turned his head to see the aristocratic man poke and prod him with his cane.

"Filthy," the man said, mouth turned down in disgust. "But clearly strong. Do you feed this one more than the others?"

"All slaves receive equal nourishment," the trader said.

 _Nourishment,_ Obi-Wan scoffed in his mind. Outwardly he didn't even frown. What they were fed barely passed for edible. No less than five times did he have to purge parasites from his body with the aid of the Force. He'd nearly failed the first two times because of the suppressant drugs coursing through his veins.

"Then Jedi must simply be hardy creatures," the man said as he slowly walked around Obi-Wan to view him from every angle possible. He poked Obi-Wan's forearm, and took note of the bruises there. "You give him drugs?"

"Only to inhibit his Jedi powers," the trader replied, meeting Obi-Wan's eyes. He could not hold the Jedi's stern gaze, and flinched away soon after.

"That won't do," the man said. "If I am to buy it I wish it to be functioning at one hundred percent capacity."

 _'It',_ Obi-Wan thought, at once both amused and disgusted with the man. He took a deep, but quiet breath. On the exhale he released his negative feelings, and waited.

"That would be incredibly dangerous," the trader said. "Surely you've heard what Jedi are capable of?"

"Of course I have," the man turned, regarding the trader with a tilted head and a tone that suggested the trader was an idiot. "Why the hell would I even consider buying a Jedi if it wasn't to take advantage of their unique powers? I hear they can control minds, crush a person with a single thought. No, why would I want to de-claw a gundark, so to speak?"

"You couldn't de-claw a gundark," Obi-Wan said, unable to stop himself from speaking. "The gundark would kill you first."

The man narrowed his eyes and stepped closer to Obi-Wan. His chin was tilted slightly upwards as he stared down his long nose at the Jedi. "Was that a threat, slave?" He asked, his lips pulling into a snarl even as his voice remained calm.

"I never make threats," Obi-Wan said.

"Is it a promise then?" the man took half a step forward, sniffed, and pulled his face into an ugly sneer before stepping back again.

"I thought we were talking about gundarks," Obi-Wan raised his brows. "Now that I think about it, I have killed a few of those in my time."

"Do you see?" The trader asked, gesturing almost wildly with his arms. "The Jedi is dangerous. It's best to keep his strange powers suppressed."

"He simply needs a collar. He needs to understand who he owes his service to," the man said.

"I serve the Jedi Order and the Republic," Obi-Wan said without hesitation.

"The _Republic_ ," the man laughed and clapped his hands together. "No, from now on you will serve _me_."

"You seem rather convinced that I will simply obey you," Obi-Wan said.

"You will," the man nodded, a smile pulling at his lips. He held his hands behind his back and said, "Kneel."

Obi-Wan stayed rooted to the spot, drawn to his full height.

The man nodded slowly, then raised his eyebrows before snapping his fingers and gesturing to one of his guards. The masked man bowed and instantly retreated to the doorway through which they had entered. He returned with two beings in tow. A young togruta and an older human man stumbled in after the guard. They were both obviously malnourished, their pallor sickly. The guard brought them to a stop before the dais, and the man walked up to them. Both slaves kept their eyes trained on the ground, and Obi-Wan could see the effort it took them not to shy away further from the man's presence.

Without warning the man plunged a small knife into the older slave's neck.

Obi-Wan darted forward, intent on trying to help the poor man, but he was quickly restrained by the Zygerian guards. It would have been so easy to throw them off, but the gushing blood and the man's garbled breaths and twitching limbs told him that nothing he could do would matter. Seconds later the man was dead, and Obi-Wan felt responsible.

"Now," the man said, wiping the knife on a cloth provided to him by one of his uniformed men. "Kneel, slave."

Obi-Wan glanced at the togruta inching away from the body of the man he'd been brought in with. He heard the hitching of his breath before he saw the tears running down his orange-hued cheeks. He was little more than a boy, and the man's implication was clear. Kneel, or the boy dies too.

Obi-Wan kneeled.

"You see?" the man said, turning to the trader with triumph in his eyes. "Every dog can be muzzled. You simply need to find the one that fits. Jedi are sworn to protect the innocent, are they not? All this one needed was a little demonstration, and now I have him on a leash."

Obi-Wan forced his anger down and accepted that there was little he could do. _For now,_ he thought.

"Right, Zarshan," the man said, addressing the trader. "I would like to conclude my business here. I will take the Jedi and the Togruta, and I will, of course, pay for the one on the floor as well."

"Very good, lord Tarrek," the trader bowed, then gestured towards the zygerian guards. Two of them stepped forward with energy-binders. Seeing the motion lord Tarrek held up a single hand in protest.

"That is unnecessary," he said.

Zarshan looked at him with vexed uncertainty. At last he said," If you insist," and motioned for the guards to step back again.

Obi-Wan watched the man with a careful eye, reaching out ever so slight with the Force. It still came to him sluggishly, but he sensed absolutely no fear in lord Tarrek. _Here is a man,_ Obi-Wan realised, _who always gets what he wants._

Throwing caution to the wind and challenging the man would be foolish. Obi-Wan knew he would first have to learn more about him. With calm patience he allowed Tarrek's guard to flank him, and escort him through the wide corridors of the Zygerian slave establishment.

The togruta boy walked ahead of him, exuding fear so strongly his bony hands shook. Obi-Wan took pity on the boy, and gently touched him through the Force, soothing his mind to a state of calm. It would be temporary, but it was all Obi-Wan was capable of doing for the boy.

They emerged out onto a wide platform where a starship stood. Obi-Wan instantly recognised the Nubian design. He somehow doubted that Tarrek was from Naboo, but his every manner spoke of sophistication and elegance, and Obi-Wan was not surprised that he'd acquired such an elegant ship.

Once inside Obi-Wan was roughly shoved into a small cabin and forced onto his knees. Beside him the boy received the same treatment. Tarrek came to a stop in front of them.

"You will be sedated for the journey," he drawled. "It's a precaution I take with all my new acquisitions. Resisting. . ." He paused and turned his eyes on Obi-Wan, and the intent in them was clear. ". . .would be ill-advised."

Obi-Wan was a quick study, and so he merely kept his eyes on the stony face of Tarrek as one of the guards injected him in the neck. He fought against the heaviness in his limbs for but a moment before he slumped over onto his side. Vision swimming, ears filled with cotton, mouth dry, a deep breath, the Force reaching out to him, and then he closed his eyes.

The journey back to wakefulness was slow.

At first he could not open his eyes. He could barely move, and so he listened instead. It was quiet, but the sound of distant birdsong reached his ears. Closer he could make out the sound of flimsi being handled, and realised that wherever he was, he was not alone.

Obi-Wan kept perfectly still. Sprawled on his back he could feel the hard surface beneath him, yet the sensation on his bare arms was soft. _I'm on a carpet,_ he thought.

The sound of a throat being cleared caught Obi-Wan's attention. That voice belonged to Tarrek. He was certain.

 _Very well, then._

Obi-Wan fought against the heavy pull on his eyelids and forced them open. He closed his hands into fists and shifted his legs, but while his mind was clear his body still struggled.

"I wouldn't bother trying to move," lord Tarrek said.

"Why. . ." Obi-Wan trailed off. Even speaking was incredibly laborious.

"It's the sedatives," lord Tarrek said casually. "It will wear off within the hour, I'd wager. Until then you'll be weak as a kitten."

"Even kittens. . . have claws," Obi-Wan managed to say as he struggled to roll onto his side.

"Oh I do love your spirit," lord Tarrek said, leaning forward in his seat. Turned on his side Obi-Wan could now make out the man's features. He looked pleased. "The Zygerians seem to think you are unbreakable. I don't know if that's true, and frankly, I don't care. In this day and age a Jedi is like a unicorn. And I believe your mere presence will deter the competition."

"What competition?" Obi-Wan forced the words through dry lips. "All I know about you is that you have monetary wealth and an utter disregard for life." With pure force of will Obi-Wan pushed himself to his knees, into a position that mirrored the one he often used for meditation, one he learned from Qui-Gon. He took a deep breath. "Who are you and what sort of crime lord are you?"

"Bold," lord Tarrek grinned. "I am Djon Tarrek. You may call me 'my lord', 'lord Djon', or 'lord Tarrek'. I am the head of a syndicate known as Blackwater."

"Never heard of it," Obi-Wan said.

"Oh you wouldn't have," Tarrek smiled, but it did not reach his unusual eyes. "Blackwater operates in the outer rim. We sell our products to several distributors, who then sell to third party dealers. By the time it reaches the core worlds, your _Republic_ worlds, few know where it originated from."

"And what is it you deal in, exactly?" Obi-Wan asked, wondering how forthcoming the man would be with him.

"Oh, this and that," Tarrek said. "Slaves, drugs, corporate espionage. I am a busy man."

"I bet you are," Obi-Wan said, briefly closing his eyes to ward off a wave of dizziness.

"And I bet you're wondering why exactly I bought you," Tarrek said. "It's quite simple really. You will serve as training instructor for my core guard force, and you will serve as my personal bodyguard whenever I have dealings with opposing clans."

"What makes you think that I will willingly serve you in such a capacity?" Obi-Wan asked, taking care to keep his voice level and calm.

"You already know the consequences," Tarrek said as he took out the small knife he'd used to kill the old man in the Zygerian slave market. From the table next to him he picked up an apple. He cut off a large chunk and ate it, chewing slowly as he observed the wheels turning in Obi-Wan's head. "I suggest you start with making your appearance more civilised. You smell, and looking at you as you are now disgusts me. Once you're neat and clean you'll have free reign in the compound. My guards will not stop you."

Obi-Wan had difficulty keeping his utter disbelief from displaying on his face. "You're playing games," he accused.

"Games?" Tarrek raised his brows. "No games. I'm simply offering you choices. For example; I wish for you to dine with me at seventh hour. If you do not. . ." he left the sentence hanging, but again the meaning was clear.

"You control beings by preying on their nature," Obi-Wan said, knowing he was right. Tarrek merely smiled a little wider. "I'll admit it's proving effective."

"Excellent," Tarrek said. He stood, turned his back on Obi-Wan, and moved towards the door. "I'll see you at seventh hour then."

"Do keep in mind," Obi-Wan said. He waited for Tarrek to turn around and face him once more, then he said, "I owe you no loyalty."

Tarrek smiled, held his chin high, "We understand each other, Jedi."

When the door closed behind Tarrek, Obi-Wan released a deep sigh and rubbed a hand roughly across his face. The sluggishness was leaving his limbs, but his mind was a whirling mess of troubles. He and Tarrek had communicated clearly with one another, without the need to truly say anything at all.

Obi-Wan knew he could not plan his next move yet. He needed to explore the compound, see the people— _slaves—_ before he did anything. He would have loved to ignore Tarrek's orders completely, but he felt like he'd been steeped in faeces. A Jedi cared not for vanity, but there was a line there somewhere, and he would take advantage of the opportunity to make himself feel a little more human again.

Carefully he stood, then surveyed the large room Tarrek had left him in. Clothes had been set out on the bed. Expensive clothes. The bed was large, the bedding fit for royalty. Everything from the curtains to the ceiling lamps spoke of extravagance, and Obi-Wan wondered why Tarrek would give a _slave_ such a room.

He pushed the thought aside and made his way into the refresher. He noticed its enormous size, but before he could study the facilities in any more detail he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror.

The marble floors of the Zygerian slave hold had given him a silhouetted, discoloured view of himself. But the mirror reflected his image back to him in perfect clarity.

Obi-Wan was taken aback by what he saw.

His skin had become so pale he could see his veins in places. His hair was oily, unhealthy, had sprouted grey beside his temples, and his beard was a tangled jungle. An ugly scar started above the outside of his right brow, neatly missing his eye before continuing down his cheekbone. Obi-Wan knew when he got that scar—during the Temple battle—and he'd felt its edges in the dark cell on Zygeria, but never before had he seen it with such clarity. If he'd lost his eye as well he would have been able to rival Jedi Master Even Piell in the category of most intimidating scar. Quite frankly, the mark shocked him more than it should have.

Obi-Wan turned his eyes away from the mirror. The man in there was unrecognisable to him. _Transformation is a part of life,_ he told himself, then met his own eyes in the mirror. A wiser, more determined man stared back.

Off to the side of the sink a pair of sheers lay. Obi-Wan picked them up and began cutting away at his beard, then his hair. When he finally entered the shower and let the warm waters wash away the grime, he was struggling to keep hold of his emotions.

He may have finally left that dark cell on Zygeria, but he was still none the wiser to the fate of the Jedi, and to the fate of the Republic itself.


	2. Chapter 2

1/19/2019

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

2.

Obi-Wan left the elegant black jacket on the bed. If he'd been a prideful being he might have refused the clothes entirely, but there was a line between defiance and stupidity, and all factors considered, he reasoned it would be better to take advantage of whatever generosity was afforded to him.

Having tucked the dark green pant legs into the expensive boots that had been set out for him, he fastened them with an ease that belied the fact that he'd been barefoot for eighteen months. Obi-Wan didn't bother to question how they'd known all his sizes. He certainly had been unconscious long enough for them to have taken his measurements.

He stood and tested the comfort of the shoes. It felt strange to have his feet contained again, but he knew he would quickly grow used to it once more. Obi-Wan appreciated the authentic nerf-hide leather used to craft the boots. It was similar to Jedi standard issue, and that was a small comfort to him.

Obi-Wan rubbed a hand over his face. He knew what Djon Tarrek was doing.

The crime lord was attempting to buy his complacency with comforts.

 _It won't work_ , Obi-Wan thought. _A comfortable bed will never make me forget about my Jedi brothers and sisters. It will not erase Palpatine's evil from the Galaxy. It will not make me forget my purpose._

Obi-Wan stood and straightened the off-white shirt before tucking it into his pants. The cloth was soft, the sleeves long, and reminded him of the inner tunic he would wear beneath his Jedi robes and tabards. He missed those items.

 _It's just clothes,_ Obi-Wan tried to convince himself. But when he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror he didn't see a Jedi. He saw a mask, a layer that would exist for the world to see until he could safely break free from Djon Tarrek's hold and rejoin the Jedi.

He walked closer to the mirror and inspected himself more closely. His beard was neatly trimmed, but he'd done a poorer job with his hair. It was comfortably short once more, but choppy in places where he had difficulty seeing. With the minutest of shrugs he walked away from the mirror and towards the door. It was time to see if he truly was unleashed, so to speak.

The hallway was brightly lit, and the first being Obi-Wan encountered upon setting off down the marbled corridors was a protocol droid. It stood, as if waiting for him, beside a painting depicting a valley at sunrise.

"Good morning, sir Jedi," the droid said. Its silver casings sparkled, as if someone had spent hours polishing and buffing the droid to rid it of any imperfections. It's photoreceptors glowed a blue that strongly reminded Obi-Wan of his lightsaber.

How he missed the traditional weapon, that extension of himself perfectly balanced and tuned to him, and him alone. His blade was gone— _probably sold on the black market_ —but his experience and knowledge remained. Stuck in that cell on Zygerria his meditations had often consisted of running through katas in his mind. Obi-Wan hoped he would soon be able to practice them with his physical form once more.

"I am C-3KV, and I am at your service," the droid finished.

"Truly," Obi-Wan said, intending irony but wasn't at all surprised when the droid didn't pick up on it.

"Indeed, sir. Lord Tarrek said I am to aid you in whatever capacity you require," it said.

Obi-Wan considered the droid's words carefully. He had intended to explore the grounds by himself, discover boundaries, study the terrain and security, but if the droid gave him a tour it would perhaps speed things up, and give him reason to linger in places he wished to study further. Protocol droids were programmed to be eager to help, to divulge information. Obi-Wan wouldn't be surprised if this droid knew the entire history of the building they stood in.

Oh he was certain that Tarrek wouldn't have allowed the droid to know anything that could reveal weaknesses, but Obi-Wan was trained to see what others wouldn't.

"Let's start with going outside," Obi-Wan said.

"Do you not first want a tour of the mansion, sir?"

"The mansion isn't going anywhere," Obi-Wan said. "I'd like to see the land while there's daylight."

"Very well, sir," the droid said. "But I wouldn't worry about daylight. It is currently forty-two minutes past eighth hour, and with the planet's twenty-six hour rotational cycle, daylight will last another ten."

"What planet are we on?" Obi-Wan asked.

"My programming prevents me from divulging that information to Lord Tarrek's property," the droid said.

 _Wonderful,_ Obi-Wan thought dryly, but he wasn't surprised. That would have been too easy.

They continued on down the corridor and headed towards the entrance hall of the mansion. Obi-Wan took note of the wood bannisters and columns, the smooth marble floors and the fine details of the window frames. Everything he saw reminded him of an older, rarely seen style. Few artisans in the galaxy still practised the crafting of older aesthetics. There was a kind of exclusivity to it.

Everything Obi-Wan saw gave him the impression that Djon Tarrek was a man who liked to show others how wealthy and powerful he was.

 _And I am just his latest toy,_ Obi-Wan thought. _I don't suppose it will be long before he lets all his friends and competitors know that he owns a Jedi._

His breath caught in his throat when they stepped out into the sunlight. The mansion stood atop a hill overlooking a wide, grassy valley. Dark, angular rocks protruded from the earth in places, and trees grew in spontaneous clumps all over the plains. The greens and yellows seemed to stretch for miles. White wild flowers dusted the landscape, while soft clouds rolled by across a blue sky.

The beauty was obvious and, even though his still light-sensitive eyes were beginning to sting, he could not look away. The droid was saying something.

"On second thought, Threekayvee," Obi-Wan said, addressing the droid. "I think I would like to explore a bit on my own."

"Oh, very well sir," the droid said. "Should you require assistance I will be in the mansion, on the second level corridor in the western wing."

"Yes, very good, thank you," Obi-Wan said and began walking down the winding steps. He needed space to think, and having the droid around would no doubt prove hindering.

Obi-Wan opened himself to the Force as he walked. He hadn't felt it flow so strongly in what felt like a lifetime. It was rejuvenating, and he immediately knew that the planet he was on was strong in the Living Force. He wondered what the native life looked like. Were there creatures like the suubatars on Ansion? What about banthas and nerfs? Perhaps there were creatures he had never before encountered.

But, looking at the walls surrounding the compound, Obi-Wan knew that those walls weren't built to keep anything out. The sentries and tower turrets were pointed inwards.

 _Free reign?_ Obi-Wan thought. _I suppose that applies as long as I stay within these walls._

The path ahead of Obi-Wan split three ways. He could keep walking straight to reach the main entrance of the compound, he saw. But that would likely be unenlightening. Left or right remained, and Obi-Wan took a right turn towards what looked like a greenhouse. He passed uniformed guards on the paved road, but they ignored him completely.

Obi-Wan shook his head. Wherever he was, and whatever Blackwater exactly was, it certainly was unconventional.

Minutes later he stood in front of the large revolving doorway leading inside the greenhouse. Curious, he walked up to the sensor, and was taken aback that it responded to him and allowed him inside. He walked along with the revolving door, and was only briefly taken by surprise when a faint mist of water was sprayed down on the other side. Where outside the air was dry, inside the greenhouse the air was kept humid.

Obi-Wan rolled up his sleeves as he took note of the rows of tall green stalks populating the area. The chutes came up to his chest, and while he was no expert on botany, it looked like the plants were close to flowering. He heard soft-spoken voices, but didn't spot anyone standing in the fields. Obi-Wan came to the conclusion that the speakers were either short, or they were crouching.

He walked around the rows of plants, glancing into the empty gaps to see if he could spot the occupants of the greenhouse. When he reached the end he noticed a pair of Twi'lek. A woman was crouching down next to what looked like a boy. They had their backs turned to him, and were speaking in hushed voices. Obi-Wan wondered if they were slaves, but discarded the thought. They likely were, and it would be indelicate to ask.

Taking care not to muffle his steps, a measure against startling them, he began walking down the isle of stalks towards them. The rhythmic tap-tap-tap of his steps alerted them to his presence, and the crouching Twi'lek woman abruptly stood and turned to face him, her eyes hard.

Obi-Wan stopped in his tracks, lips parted and brows drawing together in a mixture of confusion and dismay.

"Oola?" He asked, uncertain. "Oola Toqema?"

The woman's eyes softened and her shoulders slumped as a deep breath left her. The boy next to her gasped, his eyes widening.

"Master Jedi," Oola said. "I suppose he got his hands on you too. I can't imagine any other reason I'd see you here. I dare not hope for rescue."

"I don't understand," Obi-Wan said. "You're a botanist employed by the Republic. How did you end up here?"

"And you're a Jedi," Oola said. "Yet here you are as well."

"Are you and Silais all right?" Obi-Wan asked, his eyes turning to meet the boy's gaze. He'd grown since that day he met them on Kashyyyk, when they offered him free passage to Toprawa.

"We are as well as slaves can be," Oola said, crouching down to pick up an instrument that Obi-Wan didn't recognise. She stuck it into the soil and took a reading. "We don't have our freedom, but otherwise we are not treated poorly."

"As long as we obey," Silais piped up, his voice bitter.

"What did I say, Silais?" Oola reprimanded sternly.

The boy sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "You said I mustn't show discontent," he said. Obi-Wan noted that the boy's basic had undergone a marked improvement in the years since he'd met him. He spoke clearly, without the need to stop and think about the words.

"The ceiling has eyes and the walls have ears," Oola said, nodding her head. "Now, these readings won't take themselves, Silais."

The boy sighed and crouched down on the other side of the walk space. He picked up a similar instrument to the one his aunt used, and started taking soil readings.

"I don't mean to disturb your work," Obi-Wan said. "But I've only just arrived here, and I'm a little lost."

Oola paused in her work, but neither stood nor met his eyes again. "We don't know much ourselves," she said. "We don't know where 'here' is, we don't know anything about what's going on outside the walls of this compound. What I _can_ tell you, master Jedi, is that as long as you obey lord Tarrek you won't suffer. He treats us well. Silais always has clothes that fit him, and we always have food in our bellies. We have beds and roofs over our heads, and we even get days off."

"How did you end up here?" Obi-Wan asked again.

"We were concluding a year long project on Toprawa when our ship was attacked by a pirate vessel," Oola said, still working with the soil and instruments in front of her. "They took us captive, and. . . well. We we're lucky."

"How so?" Obi-Wan didn't see how getting attacked and kidnapped by pirates could be considered lucky.

"Lord Tarrek was at the slave market when we were brought in," Oola said. "As soon as he heard about my expertise he bought me and Silais both. It could have been much worse."

Obi-Wan nodded his head in understanding. Twi'lek slaves were often sold and kept as pleasure slaves. For Oola and Silais to escape that particular fate was a small mercy. But their freedom had still been stolen from them.

"And now you take care of his greenhouse plants?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Yes, and the gardens, as well as the agricultural fields to the east," she said. "We do as he says."

"Is anything he asks of you illegal?" Obi-Wan asked.

Oola scoffed. "What does that word even mean anymore?"

"I don't follow," Obi-Wan said, genuinely confused by the vehemence of her response.

She sighed. "Forgive me," she said. "It has been difficult since the Jedi's so-called betrayal. But of course you know all about that."

 _Betrayal._ The word shot through Obi-Wan like a blaster bolt.

"No, I don't, actually," Obi-Wan said and crouched down next to Oola. "The last time I knew what was going on in the Republic is when I fought an army that had been sent, unprovoked, to attack the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. I nearly died in that battle, and I'm assuming an opportunist sold me to the Zygerians, because until yesterday I was stuck in one of their slaver holds."

Oola paused her work and turned to face him. "Chancellor Palpatine said the Jedi had planned to overthrow the Republic's democracy. He said they were in cahoots with the Confederacy of Independent Systems. He said the Jedi orchestrated the droid attack on themselves to garner sympathy."

Obi-Wan shook his head and pulled at his beard. "A tale of fiction if ever there was one," he said.

"True or not, it doesn't matter," Oola said. "When the Jedi disappeared it sparked war in the galaxy."

"War?" Obi-Wan said, only half-surprised. But he'd hoped. . . He wasn't sure what he had hoped for.

"Yes. Between the Republic and the CIS, and a third faction who believe the Jedi were framed. The rebels believe the Republic has abandoned its democratic values, and was attempting to use the Jedi to veil their intentions. Now that the Jedi have disappeared from the galaxy it's impossible to say who is in the right. As it stands entire systems are being ravaged by a three-way war. When Silais and I were taken five months ago, the rebels had been overwhelmed by Republic forces on Vulta."

"Who leads these rebels?" Obi-Wan asked. War between the Republic and the CIS made sense, to a degree. War had a way of causing distraction, and Palpatine needed distraction to weaken the Republic and further his goals. This rebel faction was a wild card, one that Palpatine probably hadn't anticipated.

"No one knows," Oola said. "Although, maybe now they do. . . We have no way of finding out. But back then it was speculated that Bail Organa from Alderaan was part of the rebel leadership. He denied it, and faced several inquiries before the Senate, but nothing could be proven. Regardless, he was forced to step down from his position."

"I see," Obi-Wan said. Things had unravelled in a most unexpected fashion. He needed to find out where he was, and how he could get out of there. There were bigger problems in the galaxy now, and he felt urgency rise within him. Palpatine needed to be stopped. But then he looked down at the diligently working Silais. The boy was a shadow of the excitable youngling he'd met two years previous.

As Obi-Wan continued to watch Silais work he noticed something sticking out the end of the boy's sleeve. "Silais?" he said, scooting closer to the boy. "What's that on your arm?"

Silais paused, glanced at his arm, then at Oola with a questioning gaze, as though asking for permission. Oola sighed and stood from her crouch to walk closer. As she did she drew back her own sleeve while nodding to Silais. The boy pushed his sleeve back, and on their arms Obi-Wan saw three parallel lines burned onto the skin, starting midway on the top of their hands, and stretching past the wrist joint and partway up the forearm.

"What are those?" Obi-Wan asked, masking his horror with well-practised stoicism.

"Brands," Oola answered dispassionately. "Lord Tarrek marks all his property with his sigil. Soon, he'll mark you too."

* * *

The afternoon sun beat down on Obi-Wan's neck. It shouldn't have shocked him to see the brands on Oola and Silais' left arms. He'd seen how callously Tarrek had treated a living man back on Zygeria. So it certainly shouldn't have surprised him to see how the man treated the living.

For hours after, Obi-Wan sat knelt in a meditative position on a patch of grass some distance away from the greenhouse. He delayed his exploration to meditate. The Force came to him with a sharp clarity, but it yielded no answers to him. He did not allow that to frustrate him. Instead he simply basked in its presence. It had been so long since he could simply _be_ _still_ with the Force.

As time passed he heard the sound of many feet pounding the pavement in a synchronous rhythm, the sound growing louder, then fading as it went by him. He heard the sound of swoop bike engines screaming past, the sound of probe droids floating overhead, and a variety of other sounds and noises that suggested daily activity within the compound.

Eventually the need to move drew Obi-Wan to his feet. He hadn't had a chance to properly stretch his legs in such a long time that he had no idea where his fitness level was at. As hard as he'd worked to stay in shape within the confines of his dark cell, there were few things quite as satisfying as sprinting through an obstacle course.

With the Force swirling through and around him Obi-Wan got to his feet. He began a slow jog around the perimeter wall of the compound. Sentries turned to look at him as he moved past, but didn't stop him. Once he was certain his muscles were warm and limber, he picked up speed.

A set of silos came into view— _grain stores,_ he thought—and with Jedi grace he jumped to the top of the closest silo. The feat drew the attention of several sentries. Some raised their rifles in alarm, but they held their fire and simply observed the Jedi's acrobatic movements as he leaped the gaps between the silos.

Obi-Wan threw in unnecessary flips and twists as he leaped from building to building, joyful as a youngling as his body remembered how to _move_. As a padawan, and later as a knight, Obi-Wan poured as much time into training his body as he did training his lightsaber skills. He'd been lauded for his mastery of his neuromuscular system, showing a rare control that allowed him perfect balance. Hard work had gotten him to that point, and while he could feel the imperfections in his form now—brought on by his long time in captivity—it didn't bother him. He knew he could regain what he had lost. All he needed was time.

A large courtyard came up on Obi-Wan's right. Men were lined up within its boundaries, performing a kata that Obi-Wan didn't recognise. They all wore the same uniform, and Obi-Wan guessed that they were the guard force Tarrek intended him to train. He ignored their curious gazes as he sped by the courtyard and headed for the steep incline that lay before him. A system of durasteel stairs and walkways rose up it's side. Obi-Wan ignored those and used the protruding stones to half leap, half climb his way to the top.

When he reached the top he was met with several men aiming blaster rifles at him.

"Hello," he said in a calm voice, realising that he'd unwittingly leaped up to one of the guard towers. He put his hands on his hips and slowly turned his back to the men to survey the surroundings.

The compound was enormous. At the centre stood the mansion, a beacon of sophistication. A small spaceport lay behind it, and behind that were plantations of what Obi-Wan guessed was produce. The greenhouse stood off to the west, the large courtyard to the east. Along the rim were buildings that Obi-Wan assumed were a combination of barracks, stores, garages, perhaps even an entertainment centre.

Beyond the perimeter wall grassy hills and forests spread as far as the eye could see. He spotted a herd of nerfs grazing near a large river to the south. Not a single settlement was in sight. Clearly Tarrek had chosen a remote location to set up his operation. But through the Force Obi-Wan could feel that the planet was teeming with life. There had to be other settlements.

The trick would be finding them without leaving the compound, and without alerting Tarrek to what he was doing.

A comlink chimed behind him. Obi-Wan turned to look at the gathering of sentries. One of them held a hand to his ear and listened intently.

"Understood, my lord. It will be done," the man said before ending the communication. He met Obi-Wan's eyes and said. "Lord Tarrek would like to remind you of his dinner invitation at seventh hour. He wishes you to be dressed for the occasion and to tell you that he will be displeased if you are late or of inadequate hygiene. It is now ten past fifth hour."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, enjoying the wind that tugged at his clothes and blew through his hair. _Tarrek has been keeping a close eye on me today_ , he thought. _I suppose that's what the probe droids were for. . . Tracking my every movement._ He nodded his head. "I shall be on my way then," he said, then promptly leaped off the tower. He padded his landing with the Force, then ran along the path towards the mansion.

He would play Tarrek's game for the time being. He would bide his time, and when the moment came to turn the tables Obi-Wan knew he wouldn't hesitate.

Because the Force was with him, strong as it's ever been.

* * *

Djon Tarrek was already seated at the head of the long table when C-3KV led Obi-Wan into the dining hall. The crime lord was nursing a fine vintage, by the looks of it, but the food had not yet been served.

Obi-Wan glanced at the chronometer on the far wall just as it struck seventh hour.

"Good, you're on time," Tarrek said. "Have a seat."

Obi-Wan walked over to the seat Tarrek was gesturing to. It was the only other place at the table that had been set, and was on Tarrek's right-hand side.

"Oh," Tarrek said as Obi-Wan reached the chair. He stood and started taking off his silken jacket. "Do remove yours as well. As much as I love the elegance of a tailored suit, I find it a bit stifling to dine in."

Obi-Wan acquiesced with a simple nod of his head, and began removing the garment. _What was the point of asking me to dress up to begin with?_ He thought. When he'd re-entered the bedroom assigned to him to find a tailored suit he wasn't exactly surprised. Still, the presence of the clothes irked his comfort levels. He'd never been fond of formal occasions. They always called for stiffer dress, and Obi-Wan much preferred the comfort of Jedi robes.

With jacket removed Obi-Wan stayed standing until Tarrek sat down. He watched as the man rolled up the sleeves of his crisp black dress shirt. Obi-Wan rested his hands on his thighs, and waited.

"What do you think of the compound?" Tarrek asked.

"Do you really care what I think, or are you simply making conversation?" Obi-Wan asked.

Tarrek let a half-grin slip onto his face. "I'm genuinely interested," he said.

Obi-Wan was silent for but a moment, then said, "It's elegant, large, well kept and well guarded. Though I'm still not entirely sure what the purpose of this place is."

"You didn't ask my lovely Twi'lek botanists what it is they do?" Tarrek said, smirking into his wineglass.

"I didn't get around to that, I'm afraid," Obi-Wan said.

Tarrek's smirk stayed on his face as he set his glass down and spread his arms wide. He took a noisy breath through his nose, and said, "Nabisna poppy!"

Obi-Wan leaned back in his chair with sudden understanding. The green stalks in the greenhouse, not quite flowering, were being tended to by an experienced botanist for a crime lord. He shook his head. "You manufacture nabium here."

"The _best_ in the galaxy," Tarrek said with no small amount of pride.

It was difficult for Obi-Wan to keep his face neutral. Nabium was one of the most addictive drugs in existence. The very fact that a kind woman like Oola was now stuck tending the plants that formed the basis of the drug was like the stab and twist of a dagger in the flesh.

"And that's how you've made your fortune," Obi-Wan said. "Selling this drug."

"Indeed," Tarrek said. He glanced over to the door when a service droid came through the door, pushing a repulsor trolley loaded with different dishes. "But it wasn't until the war broke out that business really started to take off. The past year has been absolutely sublime. And with the botanist's help profits have been soaring."

"So you decided to buy yourself a Jedi," Obi-Wan said, ignoring the food that was being laid out on the table.

"Yes," Tarrek dragged the word out. "You are the single most expensive thing I have ever purchased, and I'm so glad to see you're still here."

"You didn't give me much choice," Obi-Wan said.

"Oh I gave you a choice," Tarrek laughed. "You simply cannot stomach what will happen if you do leave. I own you, in more ways than one."

A door behind Obi-Wan opened. He turned his head and watched as three men walked in. Two flanked his chair on either side while a third headed to a compartment inset in the wall behind Tarrek.

"Let's take care of business before we dine, shall we?" Tarrek said, that amused lilt still tainting his voice.

The two men flanking Obi-Wan dropped heavy hands on his shoulders. Reflex would have had him throw them clear across the room, but he stayed his hand. He'd been expecting this, and didn't at all react when one of the men took hold of his left arm and began rolling up the sleeve.

"Curious," Tarrek said as he stared at Obi-Wan's stoic face.

The third guard opened the sliding door of the compartment, and the room was immediately engulfed in a bright orange glow. When he turned around Obi-Wan could clearly see the red-hot brand he held in a gloved hand.

"Rather primitive, don't you think?" Obi-Wan asked, the flippancy in his voice matching the cruel amusement in Tarrek's eyes.

"By now slaves are usually begging," Tarrek raised his chin. The smile had drifted off his face. "You should have seen how the little Twi'lek boy begged and cried and _squirmed_."

Obi-Wan kept his gaze locked on Tarrek's eyes as the brand was brought closer. A defiant twinkle shone in his eyes, like the brightest of stars. When the brand made contact with his flesh, sizzling and searing the skin into smoking welts, he didn't flinch. He didn't even blink.

Tarrek frowned. He seemed almost disappointed for a moment, but then his face lit up into a brilliant, cruel smile. "Fantastic," he said. "Oh you were worth every credit."

The guards left, and Obi-Wan sat motionless as he watched Tarrek load a plate full of food before digging in with a civilised gusto.

"Please, help yourself," Tarrek said when he noticed that Obi-Wan wasn't touching the spread.

Obi-Wan could scarcely fathom what went on within the man's mind. He was a web of contradictions. Cruel, kind, civilised, barbaric. _Manipulative to the core,_ Obi-Wan thought. _There is nothing kind or civilised about this man. Everything he does is a front to better control beings with. I must not get caught in his web._

Obi-Wan turned his gaze away from the man, and began loading his plate with food. The pain in his arm was severely distracting, but he numbed the nerves with a Force-healing technique and did his best to ignore the sight of the cracked, bursting, charred skin and the blood oozing from the triple lines now engraved into his flesh.

 _Bide,_ he told himself. _The only thing that will get me out of this mess is patience._

Obi-Wan ate his food.


	3. Chapter 3

26/1/2019

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

3.

The Blackwater guard force stood to attention in the large open courtyard of the compound. The resemblance to a military unit was not lost on Obi-Wan. He also didn't fail to notice the distinct lack of brands on their arms, which told him one thing;

These men were there voluntarily.

Obi-Wan wondered what would drive a being to seek employment with a ruthless criminal. Perhaps they were born into the life, or perhaps poverty drove them there. There were probably a myriad of other reasons as well, but Obi-Wan decided to put the speculation out of his mind.

He stood before them, hands clasped in front of him, and stretched his senses in an attempt to get a more honest impression of the men than their physical forms could convey. Each man was different, but from most of them he sensed a combination of arrogance and pride. Some exuded complacency, as though they were simply doing a job, and didn't care what it entailed. Others seemed uninterested in being there at all, and were driven by fear. Murderous intent rolled off a few of the men, and Obi-Wan knew he'd have to keep a close eye on them.

"I am not a military commander," Obi-Wan said, projecting his voice out over the courtyard to be heard by all. "But lord Tarrek has assigned me to assess your abilities because of my expertise in various forms of combat."

"What do we call you then?" One of the men asked in a mocking tone. "Since you're not a military commander, and since you have that fancy new mark on your arm, I don't suppose we have to call you sir, do we?"

Obi-Wan looked down at his arm. Fourteen hours had passed since he'd been branded as Tarrek's property. The bandage that covered the wound was spotted with blood and other liquids along the burn lines. Upon returning to his room he'd found a medkit stowed in the refresher cupboard. Within he'd found a low concentration bacta salve. It would prevent infection, but would not prevent scarring. Defiantly, after applying the bandage and allowing the salve and seeping blood to soak through, Obi-Wan had entered a healing trance. He would not be able to prevent the scar entirely, like Master Che would have been able to, but diminishing it would no doubt annoy Tarrek.

Obi-Wan would concede that annoying a vicious crime lord probably wasn't wise, but it would allow him to further study how the man behaved.

With the guard's mocking inquiry Obi-Wan came to the realisation that neither the Zygerians nor Djon Tarrek had asked him for his name. To them he was but a nameless Jedi.

 _And nameless I shall remain,_ Obi-Wan thought. _Anonymity could be a valuable shield down the line._

"You may call me _Jedi_ ," Obi-Wan said.

The man snorted, amused, but made no further comment. He adopted the same disciplined stance of his comrades, and waited.

In following the commands of Djon Tarrek, Obi-Wan spent the next weeks training the Blackwater guard force— _enforcers,_ he referred to them within his own mind—in swordsmanship. Each man was equipped with a long-form vibroblade as part of their standard kit. If the weight and balance wasn't so uniquely different compared to a lightsaber, Obi-Wan would have been able to fool himself into believing he was back at the Temple, teaching a class of padawans.

But he had neither the desire to fool himself in such a way, nor the stupidity to train the guards in anything but the most basic forms. He would not divulge Jedi training to men that were little more than organised mercenaries.

During his seventh week at the compound Obi-Wan found himself dining with the crime lord once more.

"You've done a decent job with the guards," Tarrek remarked over the rim of his glass.

Obi-Wan did not respond. He found no satisfaction in Tarrek's approval.

"I think it's time we extend your duties," Tarrek placed his glass back onto the table, and picked up his knife and fork. He began cutting into the steak on his plate. "I'm heading into the city tomorrow for business. You will accompany me as my bodyguard."

"Do you expect trouble?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Not in any concrete sense," Tarrek smirked. "But I'm certain there will be individuals present who would love to see me disappear."

Obi-Wan leaned back in his chair. "It would help if you could be more specific," he said, keeping his tone neutral. This was an opportunity he had been patiently waiting for; to leave the compound. But he would have to stay calm and play his cards right, or Tarrek could rip it all away again.

"Parliament has a few questions for me, it seems," Tarrek said.

 _Parliament?_ Obi-Wan searched his mind for a list of planetary systems that had local parliaments. There were many, and even if he remembered them all it wouldn't help to narrow down the list much. _Besides,_ he thought. _If Tarrek is taking me to the city with him, I doubt he intends to keep our location secret from me much longer._

"I understand your confusion," Tarrek said, mistaking the thoughtful frown on Obi-Wan's face for puzzlement. "But I do also have legitimate business dealings. Mostly in bacta. The war and my acquisition of the botanist has been most lucrative for my company."

"Bacta, you say," Obi-Wan pulled at his beard as he considered Tarrek. "As I recall most of the galaxy's bacta is produced on Thyferra. The planet we're on isn't hot and humid enough to be Thyferra."

"Your observational skills serve you well, Jedi," Tarrek said. "Bacta production on Thyferra is largely controlled by the Xucphra Corporation. Prices never really stabilised after the Stark Hyperspace Conflict of some years ago, and with the outbreak of galactic war prices have again skyrocketed."

"So you decided to start manufacturing your own and sell at a lower price," Obi-Wan said.

"Precisely," Tarrek smirked. "Lotus Industries is fast becoming the Republic's primary supplier of bacta."

"Lotus Industries?" Obi-Wan asked, surprised with how informative the dinner was turning out to be.

"My legitimate business," Tarrek raised a brow, as if his answer were the obvious conclusion Obi-Wan should have made. Then, he added, "The business has been in my family for generations now. It was a sad affair when my father passed away, eight years ago now. I've been in charge since."

Obi-Wan felt no sincerity from Tarrek at the mention of his father's passing, and wondered what the story was. From what he knew of the crime lord, he wouldn't have been surprised if the man had murdered his father to take over his business.

"How does the parliament fit into the equation?" Obi-Wan asked, genuinely curious how the business related to political dealings.

"Well I suppose the government fears that my business dealings will bring war to our doorstep," Tarrek laughed. "I have several plantations on other worlds, but the primary manufacturing plant is located here. And that makes the Prime Minister and the parliament uneasy."

Obi-Wan could no longer hold his peace, and finally he asked, "What planet are we on?"

"But that would be telling, Jedi," Tarrek said and took a sip of his wine. "Besides, I'm sure by this time tomorrow you will have figured it out. The day will be most illuminating for you, I'm sure."

Obi-Wan accepted the mockingly vague answer and finished his meal.

* * *

Nights in the compound were cold, but Obi-Wan warded off the chill with the ease afforded him by long practise. Quiet as only a Jedi could be he slipped out the window of his room, and dropped down to the grass below. His feet made not a sound as he touched down, and he quickly began travelling along the mansion's shadows.

He expertly avoided the sentries and patrols, and made his way towards the slave barracks. He spread his senses once he was near enough, and searched for the distinctive presences of Oola and Silais. They were in a state of rest in the north-eastern corner of the large barracks structure.

Obi-Wan made his way around the outside, then used the Force to pry open the window to the Twi'lek's room. Silently he slipped inside and crouched down. With a whisper soft voice he said, "Oola," hoping to wake the woman without startling her.

At first she did not stir.

"Oola, wake up," he said again, infusing his words with the barest hint of a Force-suggestion. She blinked her eyes open, and when they landed on his crouched form she abruptly sat up, every muscle coiling into a tense ball. Obi-Wan sensed her distress immediately. "It's just me," he whispered quickly and held up a placating hand.

Oola released a deep breath. "Master Jedi," she said, sounding breathless. "You really shouldn't sneak up on people like that."

"Forgive me," he said. "I had to speak to you before tomorrow."

"What happens tomorrow?" she asked, moving her hand towards the light switch.

"No, keep the light off," Obi-Wan said. "Tarrek is taking me into the city tomorrow as his bodyguard. The parliament wishes to speak to him about Lotus Industries' bacta operations. Can you tell me anything about it?"

Oola leaned against the wall and brought her blanket up to her chin to ward off the chill creeping in through the open window. "I don't know anything about its business dealings," she said. "And I know only as much about the production as he allows."

"Any information will help," Obi-Wan said.

"Every two weeks he flies me to the plantation to take samples and do a thorough diagnostic. It's maintenance, really. To make sure the batches are healthy," Oola sighed. "I'm not sure why he has me do that. I've met the onsite scientists and they are doing their jobs as efficiently as is possible in an artificial environment."

"Tarrek is neurotic when it comes to details," Obi-Wan said. "He probably wants a second, third opinion on everything. It doesn't surprise me that he's had you do these checks. Is there anything else you can tell me, anything at all?"

Oola's expression turned thoughtful, then conflicted. _She knows something,_ Obi-Wan realised. He could sense the tendrils of fear threatening to choke her as well. With a quiet sigh Obi-Wan stood and slowly moved to sit on the bed next to Oola. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I can sense your fear. There is something else, isn't there?"

"Jedi and their senses," Oola murmured.

"Have courage," Obi-Wan said. "If it's within my power I will get both you and Silais out of here. But I cannot do it blindly. I must learn more about this man."

Oola swallowed and wiped a hand across her eyes. "I've seen. . ." she hesitated for but a moment, and then barrelled forth, "They power the plantation infrastructure with rhydonium fuel. I didn't understand why they would use such a volatile fuel source, and one that's primarily used in starships, to power a plantation."

Obi-Wan sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "It's more cost efficient per unit of energy than other fuel sources," he said.

"Yes, but the environmental fallout is catastrophic," Oola said. "They've not been disposing of the used elements safely. I've seen the dumping grounds. Lord Tarrek made me swear on Silais' life that I would never reveal this to anyone."

Obi-Wan nodded his head, and gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry," he said, mind already whirring with the possibilities the information opened up to him. "This could work to our advantage. You and Silais keep your heads down."

"We will, master Jedi," Oola said.

Obi-Wan left as quickly and as quietly as he had come. When he reached his own room once more he dropped into a meditative position on the soft carpet. There would be no sleep for him that night.

* * *

When morning came Obi-Wan showered and dressed in the standard uniform provided to him. He'd just finished buckling his boots when there was a knock at his door. He opened it to find the silver protocal droid standing there.

"Good morning, sir Jedi," the droid said.

"Good morning Threekayvee," Obi-Wan said. He'd grown used to the droid bringing him everything from clothes to messages from the crime lord himself.

"Lord Tarrek wishes you to wear a new uniform today," the droid said, then moved aside to reveal a small plastoid container being held aloft by repulsor technology.

"I see," Obi-Wan said. He opened the door wider and pulled the container inside.

"Good day, sir Jedi," C-3KV said before waddling away.

Obi-Wan shut the door before turning his attention to the plastoid crate. Upon opening it he found a uniform that resembled the standard guard dress that had been forced upon him, but where the guard uniform consisted of dark greys with red trim, the new uniform consisted of brown pants, a high-collared dark brown shirt, and an elegant cream-coloured tunic with dark brown shoulders and collar. A new set of dark brown boots and a pair of leather gloves also sat in the crate, and beneath it all was an elegant, full-face helm and a utility belt that included a side holster and magnetic mount to hold a bladed weapon. The last item was a dark brown cape that clipped to the front of the tunic.

 _He's either still trying to win me over, or he's mocking me with these traditional Jedi colours,_ Obi-Wan thought. _No doubt the helm is so there's no possibility of anyone recognising me._

Obi-Wan redressed himself without putting further thought into the meaning of the new clothes. He then carefully tucked a piece of flimsy and a stylus into his boot, and made certain it was well hidden. Glancing at the mirror he paid attention to it only long enough to make certain all his clothes were put on straight, then he clamped the helm underneath an arm and left the room.

He walked straight to the small spaceport attached to the back of the mansion. A large, long-form speeder stood ready, where one of the maintenance slaves worked diligently to buff the black paint. When he saw Obi-Wan approach he gave him a nod in greeting, then turned his attention back to the vehicle.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and waited. He was early, as he always preferred to be. It wasn't long until he sensed the tainted presence of Djon Tarrek approach.

"Excellent, those fit you perfectly," Tarrek said as he walked down the wide walkway. "I also got you something extra to compliment the ensemble."

Obi-Wan would have rolled his eyes, raised his brows, or displayed some equal sign of exasperation if he didn't have such tight control over himself.

Tarrek snapped his fingers and the servant behind him drew level with him. He carried a wide case in his arms, and held it out towards the crime lord. "Go on, Jedi," Tarrek said. "Open it."

Obi-Wan walked forward and unlatched the locking mechanism. Opening the lid revealed a custom blaster, detailed with the same brown colours of his new uniform. Beside that lay a long vibroblade, its hilt also designed with the same browns with cream trim.

"Thank you," Obi-Wan forced through his teeth as he holstered the blaster and clipped the vibroblade to his belt where a lightsaber should have been.

"Let us be on our way then," Tarrek said and headed straight for the shining black speeder. Obi-Wan followed behind and got in beside the crime lord. "Put on your helm."

Obi-Wan placed the helm over his head. It clamped onto his neck with soft padding, and a bright heads up display gave him an enhanced view of the world.

"Do not take the helm off under any circumstances," Tarrek said, voice severe. "Do not use any of your Jedi abilities unless absolutely necessary. And under no circumstances are you to converse with anyone. You are to stay at my side at all times. Understood?"

Obi-Wan hesitated, and Tarrek picked up on it instantly.

"Remember your Twi'leki friends. . ." Tarrek said, letting the threat go unvoiced, as he so often did.

Obi-Wan nearly sighed. He kept his shoulders and back straight as he said, "Understood." He wasn't surprised to hear the helm alter his voice.

The speeder lifted off the ground, and within moments they had left the confines of the compound. Obi-Wan took in all the sites, using both his eyes and his perception of the Force to identify and catalogue the environment.

Grassland valleys and rivers eventually gave way to lakes and forested mountains. When the speeder reached the far side of the mountain range a city was visible on the horizon. Obi-Wan checked the time on the hud of his helm, and saw that twenty-eight minutes had passed since the journey began. He'd paid close attention to their direction of travel, and was confident that he could accurately guess the distance between the city and Djon Tarrek's, no doubt illegal, compound.

 _Every bit of information brings me closer to a solution,_ Obi-Wan thought as he turned his focus to the city in the distance. The structures were built in an older style, and used the natural hill formations as a basis for its layout. Obi-Wan could appreciate the blend of nature and sentient design. In a way it reminded him of Naboo, or Alderaan, and stood in sharp contrast to the city-machine that was Coruscant.

A foreign feeling of disapproval came to Obi-Wan at the thought of Coruscant. He'd been raised there, within the Jedi Temple, which in fact was also a blend of nature and sentient design. But the city itself had engulfed the natural surface of the planet, and suddenly it seemed like an awful corruption.

 _The Living Force is more pure on this planet compared to Coruscant,_ Obi-Wan realised as he opened his senses. _I never before took the time to notice the difference between Coruscant and less developed worlds. I wonder what Qui-Gon would have had to say about it. With how strongly he was connected to the Living Force I'm certain his thoughts would have been enlightening._

Obi-Wan allowed himself a brief moment to miss his master, then he turned his attention back to the city.

The speeder entered the skylane traffic, and was allowed into a priority lane that headed for the city centre. The closer they got to their destination, the more towering the structures became. Yet for every duracrete monstrosity there was an adjacent park filled with trees and walkways. A river ran through the centre of the city, winding underneath an enormous structure held aloft by thick pillars flanking the river. The building itself arched to the sky with an elegant curve that tapered towards the top.

Obi-Wan had seen that building in a historical holo volume once, years previous when his birthworld was revealed to him. It should have fallen to Qui-Gon to tell him about where he came from, before he took his trials. But with his unconventional knighting and Qui-Gon's death, he didn't seek out the information until a few years later, when Anakin had casually asked him where he came from. The boy had been confused that Obi-Wan hadn't known his own origin. It had never bothered Obi-Wan, but he'd looked up the information to satisfy Anakin's curiosity.

With all the thousands of star systems in the galaxy, what were the odds that he'd end up on Stewjon now?

Obi-Wan marvelled at the unusual turn of events. He wasn't certain what it meant, or could mean, but instinct told him that an opportunity was being presented to him, and he need only recognise and grasp it.

As the speeder pulled into a parking dock Obi-Wan considered what he knew about Stewjon. The planet had joined the Republic during the time period of the Ruusan Reformation nearly a thousand years previous. Nearly forty years before the formation of the CIS, Stewjon had quietly seceded due to the Republic's refusal, or inability, to intervene in a trade dispute. When vast deposits of both tibanna gas and corusca gems were discovered deep within the planet's crust, several mining corporations under Republic contract moved in. Stewjon's leaders had argued against allowing the mining to commence, as several studies had shown that mining efforts would destabilise the planet's core, and potentially turn the lush green world into a barren volcanic rock.

In the end Stewjon's hand had been forced, and they seceded to become a neutral world. Despite that their ties to the Republic remained. As an inner rim world Stewjon was ideally situated to serve as a travel outpost. Jedi often stopped at Stewjon on their way to certain mid and outer rim worlds. Obi-Wan knew that was how the Jedi had found him.

The speeder came to a full stop, and the driver shut the engine down. Obi-Wan put his hand on the handle of the door, intending to get out of the vehicle, when Tarrek's voice stopped him.

"I wonder at your silence, Jedi," he said.

Obi-Wan lowered his hand and turned to regard the crime lord. "Would you prefer I babble like an excited child who finally got to see the big city?"

"You mean to say it does not excite you?" Tarrek smirked. "Perhaps you simply haven't realised the situation yet."

Obi-Wan studied the man beside him. He seemed pleased, as though he was playing a game he _knew_ he would win.

And then it him.

Tibanna gas was highly valued for its versatility. It could be used to manufacture everything from hyperdrive coolant to plasma in blaster weapon technology. Corusca gems were primarily used in industrial drills, and could cut through transparisteel like a hot knife through butter.

Tarrek's bacta aside, it was only a matter of time before war came to Stewjon. A neutral system with vast resources that could aid in a prolonged war effort would be invaded, fought over, occupied, and ultimately destroyed. Stewjon was in the line of fire whether Tarrek continued his bacta production or not.

 _Perhaps he meant to draw attention to Stujon through his bacta business,_ Obi-Wan thought bitterly. He kept his thoughts and feelings to himself and, deciding to play ignorant, said, "I'm sure you'll enlighten me when you see fit."

"And so I shall," Tarrek said. "Now, remember Jedi, no talking. You are but a stoic, silent bodyguard."

Obi-Wan kept his lips sealed tight and gave a single sharp nod before opening the door and exiting the vehicle. Tarrek's laughter followed him outside.

Through visor and Force Obi-Wan began scanning the environment. The large parkade was bustling with arriving members of parliament. Protocol and utility droids were in abundance as well, directing the flow of traffic and attending the turbolifts.

Obi-Wan sensed no threatening presences as they made a beeline for the nearest turbolift, but he sensed much anger and frustration from the people who caught sight of Djon Tarrek. Clearly the man was not well-liked within Stewjon City. He'd pulled his aristocratic face into a mask of calm focus, but beneath the veneer Obi-Wan sensed a vicious kind of joy. It was too similar to the distorted emotions he'd sensed from psychotic killers he'd had to deal with over his career as a Jedi.

A short turbolift ride later they emerged into a wide concourse. On the opposite side Obi-Wan noted an enormous set of double doors. He could see the tiered seating beyond the doorway and recognised it as the room where parliament assembled. There was a security checkpoint leading up to the doors, and Obi-Wan immediately knew that things were about to get complicated.

Security officials weren't fond of masks.

"Identification, please," the security official addressed Tarrek. The crime lord handed over a plastoid card which the guard promptly scanned. Obi-Wan noted the twist of the guard's mouth once he compared the face of the man before him to the one in the system. It was not difficult to sense the guard's dislike.

 _You don't have many friends here, do you Tarrek?_ Obi-Wan thought.

The guard turned to Obi-Wan with a frown. "We don't allow any facial obfuscation in parliament unless it's a biologically necessary attachment. We also don't allow weapons. You'll have to check in all pertinent items and can collect them after session."

"Oh," Tarrek turned back to the guard with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "He's with me. My bodyguard. I'd prefer he keep his arms."

The guard raised a single brow and said, "You and your bodyguard are not exempt from parliamentary rules. These rules are in place for the safety of _all_."

Tarrek tilted his head. "I'm here at the Prime Minister's request, but I can leave. You must understand that I will risk her ire before I will risk my life. I've received death threats and would prefer to keep my bodyguard equipped to do his job."

 _Ah,_ Obi-Wan thought as another realisation hit him square in the face. _Very clever, Tarrek. He never intended to sit through the inquiry. He can invoke his constitutional rights to private business practices, and then they would need a court order before they can force him to appear for an inquiry. He agreed to come, but now he's using me to make them look intolerant of his fea—_

It was as if a bell within Obi-Wan's very soul had been wrung, as suddenly an almost familiar presence made itself known. His heartbeat sped up in response, and he realised it was because he felt an odd sort of resonance with the being. Obi-Wan turned towards where he sensed its approach, and was met with the sight of a woman who looked to be approaching sixty.

Her long red hair was pulled back into an elegant braid, the strands originating on the side of her head was peppered with grey. A scattering of white strands were also visible, but it was her eyes that drew most of Obi-Wan's attention.

 _So much like mine,_ Obi-Wan thought. He had to force himself to breathe. The woman stopped beside them and gave him an odd look, before turning to the security official. "Any problems here, Officer Branos?"

 _Even her voice is familiar,_ Obi-Wan clenched his teeth. _Like a song long-forgotten._

"Mister Tarrek is insisting that his bodyguard remain armed and masked behind that bucket," the guard said. "For his _safety,_ Lady Prime Minister. Apparently he's received death threats."

 _She's the Prime Minister?_

The Prime Minister glanced between Obi-Wan and Tarrek, before settling her gaze on Obi-Wan. Her eyes narrowed slightly, as though she were trying to solve a puzzle. Obi-Wan dared not read her emotions, and clamped down on his own.

"It doesn't surprise me," she said. "I suggest a compromise then."

"A. . . compromise?" Tarrek said, an uneasy grin settled on his face, and Obi-Wan realised the crime lord hadn't expected the Prime Minister to acquiesce to any of his demands.

"Yes," she said. "Your bodyguard will check in his weapons, but he may keep the helm and his anonymity."

"My lady we should at least identify the bodyguard," the security official insisted.

"How is my bodyguard supposed to protect me without his weapons?" Tarrek interrupted, his displeasure clear in his tone of voice.

"Do you really expect to be murdered in the middle of parliament?" The Prime Minister challenged with a raising of her elegant brows.

"Stranger things have happened," Tarrek said, voice calm once more.

The Prime Minister turned her gaze back onto Obi-Wan's form. "What is your name, sir?" She asked.

Obi-Wan hesitated.

"His name is of no consequence," Tarrek quickly said.

"I'm sure he can speak for himself," she said, throwing Tarrek a stern look.

Obi-Wan still hesitated. He worried what Tarrek might do if he said anything at all. Oola and Silais, and countless other slaves were still back at the compound with proverbial blasters to their heads. One message from Tarrek and his guard force could execute any number of them.

"Very well," Tarrek said when the moment had stretched a bit too long. "Tell her."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, then said, "My name is Ben."

"Ben?" she asked, as if to make sure she heard correctly. "No last name?"

"No, lady Prime Minister," Obi-Wan said.

"You're being less than truthful," she accused.

"Please forgive me," Obi-Wan said, bowing. "I guard life, and if my full name were to be known I would be less effective at my job."

Obi-Wan straightened his spine, and hoped the Prime Minister would understand what _wasn't_ said, more than what was. She seemed confused at first, but then her eyes shone with sudden comprehension.

"Very well, Ben," she said. "I hope you understand that I will have parliamentary guards watching you at all times."

"A wise decision, my lady," Obi-Wan said. "I give you my word that I will not cause trouble."

She nodded, then turned her stern eyes on Tarrek. "Is this acceptable, Mister Tarrek? Ben leaves his weapons here, but he may keep his anonymity and enter parliament to guard your life with his."

Tarrek stood motionless for a moment. Obi-Wan probed the man and discovered a smattering of frustration and anger. To deny the Prime Minister's request after she lay a compromise before him would not only be disrespectful, it would also sway whatever support he may have held from those members of parliament who profited from his business practices. And Obi-Wan was certain there had to be a number of them.

After taking a deep breath, and making a show of thinking it over, Tarrek said, "Very well, Prime Minister Kenobi."

Obi-Wan's heart leaped to his throat.


	4. Chapter 4

2/2/2019

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

4.

The parliamentary chamber droned with the sound of many hushed conversations. Like a hive of bees people scurried across the room to say something to this person, and then that person. Flimsi was shuffled, and Obi-Wan found it slightly surprising that some of the members still took notes with the antiquated method of writing with a stylus. Most beings found it more efficient to type things up on a datapad. But Obi-Wan knew from personal experience that there was something more engaging about writing the letters out by hand, as if the mind interpreted, worked through, and recalled the knowledge more easily.

Obi-Wan stood behind Tarrek, in the front row, and waited for the session to begin. Glancing around he estimated that the chamber held approximately two hundred seats. It was only a minute fraction of the size of the Senate on Coruscant.

His eyes were drawn to the form of the Prime Minister as she climbed the steps to the raised dais where the parliamentary leaders sat.

 _Kenobi is a common enough name among humans,_ Obi-Wan thought. Yet, he couldn't deny the odd pull he'd felt towards the woman, before he'd even laid eyes on her, and he could not deceive himself. By instinct alone he knew that the woman was his mother.

Obi-Wan's attention was drawn towards Tarrek when a spike of satisfaction shot through the man. With his senses on high alert, constantly scanning for threats, it wasn't difficult to pick up on the shift in Tarrek's demeanour. He watched as the crime lord shut down a comlink and stowed it in the inside pocket of his jacket.

 _What is he up to?_ Obi-Wan thought. A gong sounded before he could give it further thought.

Parliament quickly came to order, a hush falling over the chamber as each individual took their seats and politely waited for the proceedings to begin. Obi-Wan and the parliamentary guard, spread throughout the chamber, were the only ones not seated. He noted how his presence still drew curious looks from the politicians in the room.

"Parliament is now in session," The Speaker of the House announced. He was a bearded man, black hair greying at the temples and jawline, and looked to be in his forties. "Prime Minister Winona Kenobi has the floor."

"Thank you, Mister Speaker," the Prime Minister said. "Mister Djon Tarrek, CEO of Lotus Industries, has been kind enough to answer parliament's request for a formal inquiry. This morning's session will concern the bacta processing plants he's set up on his family-owned property here on Stewjon, and how that has and could affect Stewjon at large." She turned her gaze towards Tarrek, and Obi-Wan saw her eyes dart to him briefly before firmly settling on the relaxed form of Djon Tarrek. "Mister Tarrek, what were your considerations when you decided to pursue the bacta trade?"

"It was not my decision alone, lady Prime Minister," Tarrek said. "An entire board of directors voted on it."

"My question stands," Winona said, a steel-like edge to her voice.

"Demand," Tarrek said. "The Galactic Republic declared war on the CIS after the Jedi débâcle, and suddenly bacta prices skyrocketed out of proportion. The Trade Federation, and who can tell whose side they're really even on, manipulated the situation to the benefit of their pocket books. My company saw an opportunity for healthy market competition and took it. As a result bacta prices have fallen by almost ten percent."

"So you're a humanitarian, then?" Winona asked, voice dry. Obi-Wan's sudden grin stayed hidden behind his helm. "Lotus Industries has two bacta processing plants off world. What made you decide to build more on Stewjon, and did you consider the position it would place this system in?"

Tarrek steepled his fingers, as though considering his words carefully. "Lotus Industries is headquartered here on Stewjon. From a business standpoint it was practical. As to the second part of your question, Stewjon has resources far more valuable than bacta. Obviously it was long before my time, but wasn't that the reason Stewjon became an independent system in the first place?"

"Both the Republic and the CIS already have access to tibanna gas and corusca gems, which they obtain from other parts of the galaxy," the Prime Minister rebutted. "Bacta, however, is a commodity that is not easily processed, as you should well know, Mister Tarrek. Its healing properties far outweigh the uses of Stewjon's natural resources. Republic soldiers get injured. How long do you think before the Republic shows up here to lay claim to your business? And how long before the CIS shows up to prevent them from doing so?"

"It's _galactic_ war, Prime Minister," Tarrek said. "We are naive if we think we can escape its clutches. And my bet is on the rebels getting here first."

"Is this a joke to you?" A man seated in the western end of the room spoke out of turn.

"Of course not," Tarrek said smoothly. "It is simply business."

"War profiteer!" The man accused, his voice angry. A chorus of angry murmurs rose in the wake of the declaration.

"Order!" The Speaker said, his voice amplified.

The chamber slowly fell to a quiet hush once more. Obi-Wan sensed the roiling discontent building in the room, and the growing satisfaction of Djon Tarrek. He realised then that Tarrek cared nothing for his company's image, and by extension, its success. Here was a man preparing for the world to fall apart, and relishing in it. Obi-Wan wouldn't have been surprised if the man simply up and left once the tides of war turned towards Stewjon, to continue his illegal nabisna production elsewhere. Manufacturing outlawed drugs was certainly his main source of income.

 _This man has to be stopped,_ Obi-Wan thought. Then his thoughts turned to the innocents under the man's thumb. He knew that eventually he would have to make a choice between the lives of a few, and the lives of many. Tarrek would force him to make that decision.

Obi-Wan released his frustration, and turned his attention back to the hearing.

"Your personal opinions are noted, Mister Tarrek," the Prime Minister said. "But it remains my responsibility, as Prime Minister, to request you consider removing Lotus Industries' bacta production from Stewjon. We wish to remain a neutral system, and that will not be possible if we court the attention of the Republic and CIS through our business practices."

Tarrek leaned back in his seat and brought a finger to his lips, as though thinking the request over in his mind. Obi-Wan saw the act for what it was, and in the same moment also sensed a faint disturbance.

It was indistinct. Veiled. Obi-Wan turned his head to the tall windows of the chamber. The sky outside was blue, and clear of any vehicles. He followed the arching line of the columns to the ceiling, where an enormous, modern chandelier was displayed in muted golds.

A dull reflection on its surface flickered, and prompted Obi-Wan to move to get a better line of sight.

"I think. . ." Tarrek trailed off as he noted Obi-Wan moving away from him. He cleared his throat with impatience, then said, "Ben?"

Obi-Wan ignored him, barely taking notice that all thought of debate and inquiry had ceased. The eyes of the chamber occupants all turned to him, watching him stare up at the chandelier, but Obi-Wan's entire focus lay with the small black droid he saw hovering above one of the chandelier arms. It moved away, and a grey square was revealed.

Too far away to identify it with his human eyes, Obi-Wan was suddenly grateful for the expensive helm on his head. Its visual sensors allowed him to focus on the device, and a small window appeared on the hud, magnifying the grey square.

It was a small explosive charge.

Obi-Wan sucked in a breath as he noted several more squares placed in strategic locations around the enormous ornamental ceiling. He immediately knew that if those charges were set off a starfighter-sized chunk of the ceiling would come barrelling down, and crash straight into the centre of the room where the parliamentary leadership were seated.

 _Is this Tarrek's doing?_ Obi-Wan wondered.

"What is the meaning of this?" The Prime Minister's voice broke through Obi-Wan's careful study.

 _Don't cause a panic,_ he told himself. "Lady Prime Minister, I think a recess is in order," he said, still watching the little black droid hover near the ceiling as it placed additional charges.

Obi-Wan sensed a spike of hatred from Tarrek, which was followed quickly by an urgent prompting of the Force.

"What i—" The Prime Minister's words died in her throat as a series of pops echoed around the chamber, followed by the terrible squeal of metal and crack of duracrete.

Panicked voices were raised as people stood from their seats, eyes drawn to the awful sounds.

Obi-Wan raised his arms into the air just as the ceiling came away. _Size matters not,_ he told himself. _Weight matters not. It is all the same in the Force._

Straining, arms shaking, Obi-Wan brought the falling debris to a halt in mid air. People scurried out of the way even as the panic died down in witness of the display. The parliamentary leaders were helped down from the dais by the parliamentary guard, and quickly moved out from under the mangled metal and duracrete.

Once the way was clear Obi-Wan slowly began lowering the heavy debris. The dais creaked and groaned as the weight came bearing down upon it. It snapped and splintered apart. Obi-Wan held the debris with the Force until it was low enough to the floor to prevent structural damage once dropped. Releasing his hold on it resulted in a loud thud as the air rushed out from beneath the structure. Dust was kicked up, and in unnecessary reflex Obi-Wan held up a hand to ward it away from his face.

Silence.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and turned his gaze to the gaping hole in the ceiling. The little droid was making a beeline for the opening. Obi-Wan leaped onto the debris and held out a hand. The little droid stopped dead in its flightpath. It's repulsors strained and whirred as it was dragged back in Obi-Wan's Force grip. He took care not to damage the droid. It's memory core would no doubt have valuable information.

The droid's red photoreceptor turned towards Obi-Wan, and recognised him as a threat. Spindly arms emerged from its round body, wielding everything from a fusion cutter to an electrical prod. Obi-Wan had no qualms about ripping those tools from their sockets.

Once within arm's reach Obi-Wan spun the droid until he caught sight of its activation switch, and promptly deactivated the droid. Its repulsors stopped humming, and its red photoreceptor dimmed to darkness.

Obi-Wan took a moment to read the emotion in the room. Relief and surprise were most prevalent, but a burning rage emanated from one corner of the room. Tarrek was calm on the outside, but Obi-Wan could clearly sense the man's unguarded rage.

Ignoring the seething of the crime lord Obi-Wan walked towards the Prime Minister and the guards standing alert around her. He held the dormant droid out to them.

"Here," Obi-Wan said. "Hopefully it's memory core will prove enlightening."

The Prime Minister eyed him with a stern, yet almost questioning gaze.

"Please exit in an orderly fashion," an authoritative voice boomed across the room. "The security officials will lead you all to safe rooms, where you will remain until we conclude our preliminary investigation into this attack."

Obi-Wan watched as Tarrek, who stood on the opposite side of the room, was herded out of the chamber. He fought against the guards, insisting that his bodyguard must accompany him. Opportunity had risen, and Obi-Wan quickly grasped at it. _Distance matters not,_ Obi-Wan thought, as he sent a powerful sleep suggestion to touch Tarrek's mind. The crime lord passed out and slumped over. If it hadn't been for the quick reflexes of the security officials, Tarrek would likely have suffered a few bruises from the fall.

Turning to the Prime Minister, Obi-Wan said, "Where do you want me, lady Prime Minister?"

For a moment she simply regarded him with slightly narrowed eyes, as though she suspected what he had just done to Tarrek. The twinkle in her eye was one of amused approval. "My office," she said, then turned on her heel to lead the way out.

They exited the chamber through a side door that opened into a narrow hallway. A turbolift occupied the space at its end, and Obi-Wan followed the Prime Minister and the two accompanying guards into the space. A short ride later the door slid open to reveal a wide antechamber.

Obi-Wan recalled the awful reds that coated Palpatine's office, and his appreciation for the greens and earth tones of the Prime Minister's antechamber grew.

"You two stay out here," the Prime Minister addressed her personal guard.

"Lady Prime Minister, I must protest," one of the men said.

"Noted," she said. "But considering this man just saved all our lives, I'm sure he has no ill will towards me."

"But he's. . ." the man trailed off. Obi-Wan could sense the great distrust the man had in him.

"He's what, captain?" Winona asked, raising a single brow.

"My lady, you saw what he did in the chamber," he said.

"Indeed," she said, lips twitching at the corners. "And if he harboured malicious intent towards me, I doubt the two of you could stop him. So, please trust my judgement, and remain out here."

"Yes, lady Prime Minister," the man conceded with a sigh. He sent a distrustful glare in Obi-Wan's direction.

Winona Kenobi turned and walked into her office. Obi-Wan followed on her heels, and stepped into the wide, oval space. She closed and locked the door behind them, and walked over to a small, elegant kitchenette to the side of the wide transparisteel window.

"Anything to drink, Ben?" She asked.

"Do you have sapir tea, by chance?" He asked, watching her curiously. Her movements were elegant, cultured.

"I do, in fact," she said, pulling down a small teapot from an overhead cupboard.

Obi-Wan turned his back to her then, to study the office space. He turned a wide circle, and walked past a bookcase filled with holobooks. Obi-Wan spotted a handful of ancient texts, carefully preserved. He did not recognise the language written on the covers. He proceeded past the window, and climbed the single step up to the platform upon which the Prime Minister's desk stood.

"Your name's not really Ben, is it?" Winona asked as she approached him from the other side of the desk with the small tea tray.

"No, I apologise for the deception," Obi-Wan said, his voice still distorted through the helm's modulator. His eyes caught on a picture sitting innocently on the desk. He recognised a much younger Winona leaning into the embrace of a man with chestnut coloured hair. The dimpled smile on the man's face left Obi-Wan feeling breathless. He had those same dimples in his own face. Without thought Obi-Wan's finger came up to touch the picture.

"My husband," Winona said, then quietly added, "Rest his soul."

Obi-Wan lowered his hand and took a deep breath. He'd never even entertained the idea of seeking out his birth parents. Now that he stood before his mother he could not repel the sudden curiosity and need to know her. _It is the shadow of greed,_ he told himself. _I have a duty._

And yet, would a day in his mother's company truly change the man the Jedi, Qui-Gon Jinn, and experience had moulded him into?

Winona indicated for Obi-Wan to take a seat in the sitting area near the book case. She placed the tea tray on the small table between the couches and sat down. Obi-Wan lowered himself into his seat as he watched her pour the tea.

"You're a Jedi, aren't you?" Winona asked as she handed Obi-Wan a cup of steaming sapir tea.

Obi-Wan stared into his tea. "Yes," he said.

"What are you doing with a man like Djon Tarrek?"

Her tone wasn't accusatory, but Obi-Wan felt the sting of rebuke nonetheless. "I nearly died on Coruscant when the Jedi Temple came under attack," he said, deciding to trust her with the truth. "I stayed in the Temple long enough to secure the evacuation, and then I fled into Coruscant's underbelly. I was badly injured, and had to enter a deep healing trance before I could find a proper hiding place."

"You would have died, otherwise?" Winona asked, then sipped at her tea.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "I woke in a Zygerian slaver vessel."

"That's awful," Winona said. She then rolled her eyes skyward and continued with an exasperated tone, "Don't tell me Djon Tarrek saved you from that situation."

Obi-Wan allowed his amusement to colour his tone, "Only if you equate saving with buying."

Winona straightened in her seat and put her tea down on the table. Her eyes became stern pools of blue-green as her lips parted in incredulity. "He _bought_ you?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan said.

"He engaged in the slave trade?"

"Oh yes," Obi-Wan said. "He has a whole compound full of slaves, right here on Stewjon."

"Unbelievable," Winona said. She was silent for a moment, then turned her head sharply towards him again. "If you're a Jedi, why haven't you done anything about it yet?"

"The situation is complicated," Obi-Wan said. "Djon Tarrek is a psychopath, I have no doubt about it. He's threatened to kill innocents if I don't obey, and it is physically impossible for me to protect them all when they're spread all over the compound."

Winona sat still for a time, considering his words, and no doubt trying to think of a way to trap Djon Tarrek. Obi-Wan watched her closely, studying the way the fine wrinkles around her eyes danced as her face muscles sometimes twitched while her mind worked. She noticed his stillness, perhaps she felt his gaze on her, and turned to face him again. She picked up her tea, and indicated to the cup Obi-Wan still held in his hands. "You'll have to remove the helm if you plan on drinking that tea."

Obi-Wan placed the cup on the table and brought his hands to the sides of the helm, but hesitated. He realised he feared her reaction. Would she recognise him, as he had her? What if she did? What if she didn't?

 _I'm overthinking,_ Obi-Wan realised. _She is in a position of power, and can help to bring Djon Tarrek to justice. The faster that happens, the faster I can search for the Jedi._

"Your identity is safe with me," Winona said, having noticed his hesitation. "I never did believe that the Jedi would betray the Republic, as it was reported. And after what you did for my people today, keeping your identity secret is the least I can do."

"It's not that," Obi-Wan said, still hesitating.

"Then what is it?" She asked, her tone compassionate. _Motherly._

Obi-Wan removed the helm and watched her closely.

At first she did not react at all, but then she blinked and took a deep breath. Her brows pulled together and her eyes gained a sheen of moisture. She swallowed and exhaled sharply through her nose. Obi-Wan thought she was doing a rather remarkable job staying calm.

"I sent a son to the Jedi once," she said, her voice almost whisper soft.

Obi-Wan swallowed past the lump in his own throat, and with a steady voice said, "My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Winona brought a hand to her mouth, tears pooling on the lower lids of her eyes. Obi-Wan let the helm drop to the floor as he moved to kneel beside her. He removed his gloves and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, while grasping her free hand with his other hand.

"I'm sorry if this is difficult for you," Obi-Wan said. "I never thought I'd meet my mother. Least of all like this."

"I've thought about you every day since I gave you up to the Jedi," Winona said, wiping at the corners of her eyes. "I felt in my heart it was right, but it was the most difficult thing I ever had to do. Please tell me I made the right choice."

Obi-Wan gave her a gentle smile. "You did," he said.

"You don't resent me?"

"Never," Obi-Wan said, voice soft, but laced with conviction. "I was meant to walk the Jedi path. Though I never imagined it would lead me here."

"I'm glad it did," she said, eyes still teary. A moment later she had composed herself again. She looked him square in the eyes, eyebrows raised, and dryly said, "But the circumstances leave much to be desired."

Obi-Wan laughed, and watched a fond smile spread over his mother's face.

Winona's smile slowly dimmed, but her eyes remained gentle. "You didn't cry, you know," she said. "That day the Jedi came to take you. Barely more than a year old. You looked back at me as he carried you off into his starship. You kept your eyes on me the entire time, and you _smiled_. I knew then you would be able to handle anything life threw at you. My little boy. . . What a handsome man you've grown into."

Obi-Wan had no words in response. Before him sat an impossibly brave woman. He'd never thought about what parents went through when they gave up their children to the Jedi Order, knowing that they would most likely never see them again.

"Now," Winona said, squeezing his hand. "Tell me everything you know about Djon Tarrek. The sooner we uncover his illicit dealings and bring him to justice, the better it will be for all."

"Other than my word I have no concrete proof I can give you," Obi-Wan said. "But I can provide you a few leads to start your investigation with. I imagine after today Tarrek won't let me out of his compound again. Your people will have to take care of everything."

Winona sighed. "Bureaucracy could prove difficult to navigate."

"I am well practised in patience," Obi-Wan said. "And I will be ready to act when the time comes." Obi-Wan took the stylus and flimsi out of his boot and began sketching a map to Tarrek's compound. "I don't know the coordinates, but I've memorised the direction and the landmarks on the way to the city."

Obi-Wan spent the rest of the morning relaying everything he knew about Djon Tarrek and the man's operations to Winona. She sat behind her desk, hands ready at the computer terminal. Her face was set into a stony mask of focus as she took notes on everything he said. By the time the Security chief sent a communication that their preliminary investigation in the Chamber of Parliament was over, they had covered everything.

"I should not linger too long," Obi-Wan said once Winona ended the communication with the Chief. "Tarrek will already be suspicious enough as it is."

"After his fainting spell he'll be in the medical wing," Winona said. "He must be seething."

"Oh I doubt he's conscious yet," Obi-Wan said.

Winona gave him an amused look, and said, "Your doing?"

Obi-Wan gave her an enigmatic smile and said, "Sometimes, a man must create his own opportunities."

Her melodic laughter was something Obi-Wan vowed to never forget.

"I want to give you something," Winona said once her laughter stilled. She pressed a button on the side panel of her desk, and a compartment slid open. She took out a small box and handed it to Obi-Wan.

He opened it, and his lips parted in surprise when he saw the clear crystal that lay within. The light refracting through it gave the centre of the crystal the appearance of liquid fire. The moment Obi-Wan touched it, warmth spread through him, and he knew the crystal was unusual and uncommonly rare.

"It's one of the corusca gems they unearthed here, well over fifty years ago now," Winona said. "Your father found it when he was a boy of twelve. He said it called out to him. I was never sure if he truly believed that, or if he was simply pulling my leg."

"This is no corusca gem," Obi-Wan said as he lifted the bright crystal from the box. He could feel the Force resonate with it. "Corusca gems are not conduits of the Force."

"Do you mean to say it did call out to him?"

"If he was at all Force-sensitive he might certainly have been drawn to it," Obi-Wan said. "Not even the Ilum crystals are as vibrant in the Force as this one."

"I don't understand," Winona said, genuinely confused at the awe she saw etched onto Obi-Wan's face.

"I believe this is a kaiburr crystal," Obi-Wan said, still marvelling at how the crystal resonated with his very being. "An ancient Force relic. We had a handful of them at the Jedi Temple, passed down through the ages and mostly used for healing, but none of them were this resonant and pure."

"Will it help you?" Winona asked.

"Oh yes," Obi-Wan said. He was only holding the crystal in his hand, and he could feel the Force resonate through him with a strength and clarity he had never before experienced. _Was I guided to Stewjon for this crystal?_

"Then I'm glad," Winona said, voice soft once more. "Before you go, will you grant me one request?"

"Anything," Obi-Wan said without hesitation.

Winona walked around the desk to stand in front of him, her eyes downcast. She seemed hesitant, as though gathering her courage. Emotion warred across her face, and then Obi-Wan simply _knew_ what she wanted to ask.

He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, and hugged her like only a son could hug his mother.

* * *

Notes:

1\. Kaiburr, kyber. . . Both spellings are used. I chose to go with 'kaiburr' because for some reason it looks a bit more mysterious to me than 'kyber'.

2\. Obi-Wan meeting his mother wasn't at all planned. It just sort of happened. And while in hindsight I can say the experience was necessary for where his character is going, I hope it didn't feel forced.

To danthev: Thanks for the kind words. I'm glad you're still enjoying the story!


	5. Chapter 5

There is a possibility that I may have to go on brief hiatus over April. Which means I need to either start posting multiple chapters per week, or the story will go on break for over a month after chapter 10 is posted. I haven't yet decided how I want to handle it. I like my consistent weekly schedule, but life happens, and it may not be possible to maintain over April.

Posted 9/2/2019

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

5.

The ride back to Tarrek's compound was filled with deadly silence. Obi-Wan sensed the man's seething rage fester and build into an ugly hatred. He guarded himself against it, the kaiburr crystal providing a comforting warmth against the palm of his left hand where he'd hidden it in the glove. It reminded him of the river stone Qui-Gon had given him for his thirteenth lifeday, so long ago now.

Obi-Wan didn't need small comforts to face down hardships any longer, but he still appreciated them when he got them.

When the driver parked the expensive speeder Tarrek was quick to exit. "Follow," the crime lord said in a soft tone that belied the putrid temper Obi-Wan sensed from him. When they reached the confines of Tarrek's office the man turned on Obi-Wan with a grisly snarl.

"I should kill those Twi'leks to teach you a lesson!" He said in a low, aggressive tone. "I told you _no Jedi abilities_ , and you go and reveal yourself to them! They're not idiots, they'll put two and two together if they haven't already."

"What are you afraid of?" Obi-Wan asked. Beneath the fury he could sense a growing kernel of dread in the man.

"I fear _nothing,_ " Tarrek said, spittle flying from his mouth.

"Everyone fears something," Obi-Wan said, face displaying nothing but serenity. "Not even Jedi are immune."

"You disobeyed me!" Tarrek said, finally allowing his voice to raise from its soft tones.

"It was necessary," Obi-Wan said. "Lives were at stake."

"Interesting that you should say that!" Terrek spat. He turned on his heel and walked to his desk with an angry gait. He ripped open a drawer and pulled out a comlink. "Who should I kill for your insolence, hm? The Twi'lek woman, or the Twi'lek boy? All I need to do is send a simple code and one of the guards will get to play at target practice. Or maybe I should have them whipped first?"

Obi-Wan thought he'd shown great patience for one in his position, but enough was enough. He yanked the comlink out of Tarrek's hand with the Force, then Force-pushed him up against the wall and held him firmly. The crime lord struggled against the invisible power that held him in place, the rage in his eyes turning to confusion.

"I think you misunderstand your position, Djon," Obi-Wan said with a stoic calm.

"It's lord Tarrek to you!" The man spat, head shaking with rage and effort as he struggled against the invisible bonds pressing against his torso and limbs. "Let. Me. Go!"

"The only reason I am still here, in this compound, is because there are innocent lives at your mercy," Obi-Wan said. "The simplest solution would be to kill you. But, lucky for you, that is not the Jedi way."

"You are a _slave_!" Tarrek yelled.

"I am a Jedi," Obi-Wan said. "And you did not appreciate that fact when you liberated me from the Zygerians and their drugs."

"Then I will put you back on the sauce!" Tarrek said, lips quivering and eyes wide with fury.

"You can certainly try," Obi-Wan raised a single eyebrow to drive the point home. "The only reason the Zygerians succeeded is because I was already unconscious, and at death's door when they first injected me. You do not have the same advantage. Nor will you."

"I will _kill_ slaves until you submit!" Tarrek hissed.

"The moment you start killing innocents is the moment you will lose everything," Obi-Wan said, face still perfectly serene. "I will release you soon, and you will not see me again. But I will still be here, in your compound, watching. Waiting. I don't imagine you will agree to turn yourself in to the Stewjon authorities, so my offer is this;

"Release all the slaves you own and secure safe passage for them to the city. If you do this, you will never hear from me again. If you do not I will haunt this compound. You will never find me, but I will be there, waiting for you to give me a justifiable reason to intervene in a more drastic fashion than I have here today."

Obi-Wan dropped his hold on Tarrek, then drew the Force around him to conceal his presence. The moment he vanished from sight Tarrek shook in a startled manner. His eyes darted around the room, hand going to the desk drawer and pulling out a blaster. Obi-Wan left the crime lord to his growing fear, and quietly slipped from the room.

With his ultimatum thrown down, all Obi-Wan could do now was watch over the slaves until the Stewjon authorities found the concrete evidence they needed to intervene and arrest Djon Tarrek for his crimes. That's one advantage that still remained to Obi-Wan; Tarrek had no idea how much Obi-Wan had told the Prime Minister. The crime lord's arrogance was going to cost him dearly. It was only a matter of time.

Obi-Wan made his way to an alcove he'd scouted weeks earlier. It was one of several security holes he'd found. No recorders were turned on it, and passing guards' view was obscured by the vines crawling up the durasteel support structure of the mansion. Add a little Force-concealment and Obi-Wan was completely undetectable while there.

He sat down on the cool stone of the alcove, and then studied the comlink he'd ripped away from Tarrek. It was nothing if not completely standard, and that made things simpler. Obi-Wan grinned. With careful use of the Force he unscrewed the casing and took the comlink apart piece by piece. He silently thanked Master Shuulon for the extra assignments he'd piled upon his shoulders when he was but a mere padawan of age sixteen. Without the extra work he might not have been able to disable the comlink's tracker and recalibrate the device to function as a wide-range receiver.

" _Do pay attention, Obi-Wan,"_ Master Shuulon had said to him once. _"These skills are important. What will you do if your comlink suffers a malfunction or breaks while you're on a dangerous assignment?"_

" _The Force will provide,"_ Obi-Wan had answered with a cheeky grin.

" _Oh pish-tosh! That's something your master would say. Don't think it will get you out of doing these assignments. The Force provides for those who are prepared."_

Obi-Wan laughed quietly to himself in fond remembrance as he carefully closed the comlink's casing again. He switched it on and immediately a set of frequency codes ran across the small display. Obi-Wan picked one at random and settled in for a lengthy surveillance.

* * *

Weeks passed. Obi-Wan was beginning to lose count of the days. Tarrek appeared to have taken his warning seriously. The crime lord hadn't yet doled out harmful punishment to any soul unfortunate enough to make a mistake. Oola and Silais were both fine, both still working in the greenhouse by day.

Obi-Wan made good on his promise to haunt the compound, and while the game gave him some amusement when it first began, with every passing day the tedium grew. The guards had become increasingly suspicious of every shadow, which proved to make it harder for Obi-Wan to move around the compound. He could no longer steal food from the mansion's kitchens. But that was hardly a hindrance for a Jedi Master who had spent months mentally cataloguing every nook and cranny of his environment.

During the ninth week of Obi-Wan's shadow play, the monotony finally broke.

Alarms blared across the compound, nearly bursting Obi-Wan's eardrum. Perhaps it hadn't been his cleverest idea to tuck himself behind one of the loudspeakers midway up the northern most guard tower.

With jedi-agility Obi-Wan quickly scaled the wall to the top of the guard tower, keeping himself concealed in the shadows of the late night. Stewjon's twin moons were mere crescents, and the surrounding valleys were cast in deep shadow for lack of illumination. It was little hindrance for Obi-Wan, considering he had obtained a pair of state of the art macrobinoculars from a guard station weeks prior. He set it to night-vision and looked to the horizon.

Almost immediately he spotted the large, moving shapes. Yells from down below drew Obi-Wan's attention back to the compound before he could study them in detail.

"He said what?" One of the guards yelled.

"Torch them!" Another yelled in response. Obi-Wan watched as the two men ran past his tower. "Torch the nabisna, then take the slaves down into the tunnels!"

Obi-Wan frowned. _Torch_ could only mean one thing, but clearly Tarrek hadn't thought things through if he had ordered his men to set the greenhouse on fire. The gasses produced by the nabisna plant during its night cycle would combust quite violently. Not to mention the fertiliser and environmental systems' potential for explosive devastation.

"Are you sure that's smart?" The first guard yelled, his voice growing fainter as they ran further from Obi-Wan's tower.

"I don't question the boss, and neither should you."

Obi-Wan dropped from the tower and ran along the shadows towards the greenhouse. He had to make sure no one was in there when the fireworks started. Clearly Tarrek wanted to get rid of evidence of his drug operation. It was an obvious sign of desperation, and destroying his own property would no doubt only inspire further suspicion.

 _What is that man thinking?_ Obi-Wan wondered.

He darted around a storehouse and ran straight into a guard. With a quick Force-suggestion he put the man to sleep and dragged him underneath the awning, out of sight and—hopefully—out of harms way. Two buildings later Obi-Wan paused and closed his eyes. He felt the ocean of the Force, and let it carry him among its waves as he searched out other lifeforms.

The greenhouse was clear.

With a silent sigh of relief Obi-Wan turned to watch the guards approach the structure with flamethrowers. He rubbed a hand across his beard, raised his eyebrows, and then covered his eyes with an arm before settling in to wait for the inevitable explosion.

It came moments later, and was accompanied by pained yells. Obi-Wan took his arm away from his eyes and watched as one man rolled on the ground, screaming. By the looks of it the fuel tank of his flamethrower had caught shrapnel from the explosion, and was leaking toxic fumes into the air. The man was able to shrug out of the rig before it exploded, but by that point the fuel had drenched his suit, and he went up in flames.

Obi-Wan knew the man's protective gear would not be sufficient, so he darted forward, paying little attention to the other guards in the area. He stopped near the burning man, the heat so intense that he felt the need to retreat. And if that's how he felt he could only imagine the agony ripping through the man. His screams were terrible.

Gripping the kaiburr crystal in his left hand Obi-Wan drew on the Force and directed its waves towards the man flailing on the ground. He pulled the flames and heat away from him, and pushed it skyward. When he released his hold over it the flames sputtered, burned for but a moment more, and then fizzled out.

The stench of chemicals and burned flesh assaulted Obi-Wan's senses. He sneezed, then dropped down on his knees next to the injured man. He'd grown incredibly still, but as Obi-Wan crouched next to him he could see the man's pained expression as he breathed through the pain. His suit had been burnt to his skin. No doubt the man was in for a long, painful recovery. With that in mind, Obi-Wan hovered his hand above the man's head.

The sound of a blaster rifle safety being switched off forced Obi-Wan into complete stillness. He glanced up and was met with the sight of three guards.

"Get away from him," the guard closest to him spat.

"I only wish to ease to his suffering," Obi-Wan said.

"I don't trust you," the guard said. "For weeks now you've been making fools of us!"

"Think. Would I have pulled the fire from him if I wished to murder him?" Obi-Wan coiled the Force around him as he spoke, preparing to move quickly if the guards decided to start shooting.

"Get on with it then," the guard said. "But afterwards we're taking you to the boss."

Obi-Wan gave the guard a half smile, then turned his attention back to the injured man on the ground. He was still groaning, agony rippling through his cindered flesh. Obi-Wan calmed the man's panic first, then willed him into a deep state of unconsciousness.

"He still needs immediate medical attention," Obi-Wan said as he slowly drew himself to his full height, being careful to move slowly, and to keep his hands within the guards' view.

"Get the med droid," The lead guard said to the man standing beside him.

"Varin, we can't," the guard said, raising a hand and pointing to the distant and dark horizon. "We've got incoming. The longer we linger here to less chance we'll have of getting out."

Obi-Wan stayed silent throughout the exchange. The one named Varin seemed conflicted. Obi-Wan could sense the man's compassion warring with his need to preserve his own freedom.

"Then get moving!" Varin seemed to suddenly snap. He began stomping away at a fast pace, but turned his head to say, "I'll get the bloody med droid myself!"

"What about the Jedi?" The guard yelled after Varin, helmed head swivelling between his commander's retreating figure and Obi-Wan.

"Figure it out yourself!" Varin's peeved and distant shout barely reached them through the sound of the roaring blaze that burned what little remained of the greenhouse infrastructure.

Obi-Wan calmly watched as the two remaining guards turned towards him, rifles raised. Their faces were obscured by combat helms, but their builds were distinctly different. One stood as tall as Master Qui-Gon had, but the resemblance ended there. His frame was thin, almost fragile looking. The other guard was short, and broad shouldered. _Gangly and Stumpy,_ Obi-Wan named them within his mind.

"Tarrek said to take all slaves to the tunnels," Gangly said, jerking his rifle to the side, as though prompting the Jedi to get moving.

Obi-Wan stood his ground calmly, and folded his hands in front of him.

"Get moving," Stumpy said.

"What happens next is entirely up to you," Obi-Wan said. He stared them down, with the calm determination that marked him as a veteran of many a difficult situation. The expression was one that could both bolster an ally as well as strike fear into an enemy's heart. The Jedi Master let his words fester within the two guards' minds.

Gangly and Stumpy briefly turned their heads to one another, and in that moment Obi-Wan could sense that both men had allowed their fear to overcome them. They reacted as frightened animals would.

The two guards turned tail and ran, occasionally turning their heads back to see if the Jedi was in pursuit.

Obi-Wan let them go and breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that their fear had pushed them to flee, rather than fight. He turned his attention back to the injured man on the ground. With kaibur crystal in hand he crouched down next to the man again. He touched the man on the forehead, thumb and pinky resting lightly against the temples. The poor man's presence in the Force was sluggish, struggling, and Obi-Wan noticed that his breathing was laboured.

With a careful precision Obi-Wan searched out the source of the man's struggle. With the panic and pain numbed he should not have experienced breathing problems, unless there was something else hindering the simple act. And then Obi-Wan found the minuscule, discordant fluctuations of the Force that indicated injury. The man's lungs were damaged, perhaps poisoned.

Obi-Wan's shoulders drooped ever so slight. He was no trained healer, and he knew that only someone of Master Vokara Che's calibre could save the burned man now.

The hum of repulsors drew Obi-Wan's attention towards Varin's return. He was pushing a repulsor gurney alongside the advancing med droid.

Obi-Wan pushed himself back to his feet and moved out of the way. The droid moved in and began a diagnostic scan.

"What is it, Jedi?" Varin asked, voice apprehensive.

Perhaps it shouldn't have taken Obi-Wan by surprise that Varin had been perceptive enough to pick up on his suddenly sombre mood. For a moment, Obi-Wan didn't know how to respond. He could sense Varin's attachment to the man on the ground. It was only when Varin ripped the helm of his head, face pulled into concern, and met his eyes that Obi-Wan regained control of his tongue.

"His lungs. He must have inhaled. . ." Obi-Wan trailed off.

"What are you saying?" Varin threw his helm on the ground and walked right up to Obi-Wan. He showed none of the fear Gangly and Stumpy had shown. In the face of his concern for the man on the ground Varin had become an unstoppable force. He grabbed Obi-Wan by the shirt, and shook him. "Tell me!"

"I'm so sorry," Obi-Wan said, his voice quiet, and heartfelt.

Varin pushed him away, his brows pinching as he paced around the med droid. Finally the droid finished its scan, turned towards Varin, and said. "I am unable to treat him."

"What? What do you mean?" Varin said.

"His lungs are too damaged," the droid said, modulating soft and compassionate tones, as per its programming. "His lungs are no longer able to sufficiently deliver oxygen to his blood stream."

"He'll suffocate?" Varin asked, voice cracking on the last syllable.

Obi-Wan could feel Varin's pain in the Force.

"I'm afraid so," the droid said. "I cannot save him, but I can ease his passing."

Varin nodded, too emotional to speak, and crouched down next to his fallen friend. Obi-Wan slowly walked around the two men and crouched down on the other side. He said nothing, and merely reached out to the man through the Force, offering what little comfort he could.

They sat there for perhaps another minute when Obi-Wan felt the Force presence of the burned man lose its individuality.

"He was my cousin," Varin said. "But in every way that mattered he was my big brother."

Obi-Wan stayed silent, sensing that the man simply needed someone to hear him out. Up close as he was to Varin, he could see how young he truly was. _No older than Anakin,_ he thought.

"It was his idea to come here, you know?" Varin sniffed and wiped a hand across his eyes, swiping messy brown locks out of the way in the same motion. "I didn't believe him when he said what the pay would be. I had a bad feeling about it, even before I knew what went on here. I should have tried harder to convince him not to come here.

"Tell me, Jedi," Varin looked up, his eyes shining, pulling, imploring. "What do I do now?"

Obi-Wan slowly reached out towards Varin, and rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Now," Obi-Wan began. "Now you have an important decision to make. You get to define what sort of man you want to be. You can flee along with Djon Tarrek and the rest of his enforcers, or you can stay and take responsibility for your part in all this."

"I never wanted to come here," Varin said quietly.

"Neither did I," Obi-Wan said, a slight twinkle in his eye. Varin stared at him in surprise, then a sound that was half laughter and half sob escaped him. The young man pushed himself to his feet and walked a few paces away, shoulders shaking. Obi-Wan followed and drew level with Varin, keeping his hands clasped behind his back. "Sometimes we end up, not where we want to be, but exactly where we need to be."

"Then what was the point of all this?" Varin asked after having calmed himself enough to speak again. "Was I suppose to end up here just so I could see my cousin die?"

"The why is not always clear," Obi-Wan said. "That's what makes it so difficult to bear."

They stood in silence for what felt like a small eternity, but was in truth only seconds.

"I've made my decision," Varin said.

"And?" Obi-Wan prompted.

"I'm going to turn myself over to the Stewjon authorities when they get here," Varin said. "It should be any second now. They were only minutes out when we first detected them coming. I'll tell them everything I know."

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, feeling calm and lighter than air. "Good decision," Obi-Wan whispered. Then, in a louder voice he asked, "Tarrek's slaves. . . Where do the tunnels lead?"

A flash of horror crossed the young man's face, his sudden fear a palpable force that nearly knocked the wind out of him. "The tunnels!" Varin exclaimed. "We have to stop them, quick!"

Varin began running, and Obi-Wan followed hot on his heels.

"Tell me what's going on," Obi-Wan demanded as he drew level with the young man.

"The tunnels don't lead anywhere," Varin said. "They're going to collapse the tunnels onto the slaves!"

"What?" Obi-Wan exclaimed, startled that Tarrek would go so far as to commit mass murder in an effort to erase evidence of his wrong-doing. Steeling himself against what he might be forced to do, Obi-Wan searched the Force for the life presences of the slaves.

He found them easily enough. They were a swarm of fear and confusion that stood stark against the quiet spaces around them.

"Go back, Varin," Obi-Wan said. "I need you to wait for the Stewjon authorities and send them to the tunnels. Can I rely on you to do that?"

Varin turned his head towards Obi-Wan. "You can," he said. "But how will you find the tunnels without me?"

"Don't worry, Varin," Obi-Wan said. "My senses have never led me astray!"

The Jedi Master sped away with Force-enhanced speed then. Varin stopped in his tracks and shook his head in amazement. With the smallest of grins he turned around and ran back to meet the incoming Stewjon Security Forces.

* * *

Concussive shockwaves burst forth like strong gusts of wind as small charges were detonated in intervals along the compound. The storage silos were systematically being destroyed, its content either burnt to ash or vaporised depending on what sort of charge was used.

Obi-Wan sped along the wall of the compound and slipped through the unguarded western exit. An old mining quarry gave way to valley near a hundred meters from the gate. Still running with the aid of the Force, Obi-Wan covered the short distance to the quarry before any sentries could even pick up on his movements. He hid himself in the tall grasses above the cliff overlooking the quarry.

From his vantage point he spotted the entrance to the tunnels. The rusted, dilapidated equipment made it clear that no mining had been done there in decades. Perhaps no one would question a sudden cave-in at an old, abandoned mining facility, but Tarrek truly should have known the timing would be suspicious.

 _Unless he's clever enough not to collapse the mine until a few days at the very least have passed,_ Obi-Wan thought.

Trusting that Djon Tarrek would indeed be that clever, Obi-Wan made himself comfortable in the tall grass. He sat with his legs crossed in a meditative position, waited, and watched. Armed guards herded the last few slaves into the tunnels. From his vantage point Obi-Wan could not see directly into the tunnel entrance, but he heard the locking mechanism groan as it clanked and tumbled into place. Moments later the many armed guards boarded speeders and shot away into the night.

Above the compound lights still danced, and Obi-Wan could just make out the SSF ships hovering over the property, occasionally swerving to avoid a projectile, while returning fire with its blaster canons moments later.

Whatever the outcome would be, Obi-Wan was satisfied that Djon Tarrek had been unmasked in the public eye for the snake that he truly was. His company's board of directors would have no choice but to vote him out, else allow the company to fall into ruin.

Still, there was no doubt in Obi-Wan's mind that unless Djon Tarrek was captured that very night he would continue his illegal and inhumane business practices. He would have to rebuild, and it would take time, but a man like Tarrek didn't stay down.

Obi-Wan pushed those thoughts aside and turned his attention back to the mine. His immediate concern were the slaves trapped in the tunnels.

He quieted his mind and listened to the Force. _Now,_ it seemed to say. Obi-Wan dropped over the edge of the cliff, leaping down from ledge to ledge as he made his way to the bottom of the quarry. Once there he scanned the environment once more to make sure that no lingering guards remained, then moved towards the large tunnel entrance.

The great durasteel doors were locked into place. Obi-Wan estimated that at least a meter of metal stood between him and the slaves locked inside. He turned to the access panel and saw that it had been destroyed with a well-placed blaster shot.

Obi-Wan sighed, and reminisced that a lightsaber might have been quite handy just then.

 _Oh well,_ Obi-Wan thought. _There is more to being a Jedi than wielding a lightsaber._

He closed his eyes and calmed his mind, and through the Force reached out to the durasteel in front of him. He touched the heavy locking mechanism with his mind, lifting it, hearing it groan in protest as it was moved against its natural resting position.

The panic of the slaves beyond the great doors leaked through the Force, and nearly broke Obi-Wan's concentration. For a moment he wished he could soothe their spirits, but the task at hand required his full attention. With effort he blocked out their cries for help, and focused on the heavy durasteel. The hydraulic locks protested loudly as Obi-Wan managed to force them to move and turn. Straining with the effort Obi-Wan had to stop and catch his breath once the locks finally reached its open position.

He crouched down upon one knee and opened his eyes. The doors still stood closed, but they were no longer locked.

 _Step two,_ Obi-Wan told himself. _In the Force a durasteel door weighs no more than a feather would. All are bound through the Force, and I am one with the Force._

Obi-Wan pushed himself to his feet and reached towards the durasteel with his right hand. Dust and old rust flaked off the doors as they began to slowly move upon their old rails. Centimetre by centimetre the colossal doors slid open, groaning, screeching, until finally a space wide enough for a small speeder to pass through was revealed.

All but falling to his knees Obi-Wan lowered his shaking arm. He suddenly felt as though he'd run a marathon, the evening's events catching up to him in a way he hadn't felt since Tatooine.

A man tentatively stuck his head outside the tunnel. Obi-Wan glanced up, still breathing hard. "They're gone," he said. "I suggest you all. . . calmly leave those tunnels. It's not safe."

One by one the slaves emerged and walked into the wide quarry. The night sky above them open and clear, shining with stars. Obi-Wan could feel their relief, their quiet joy, but also their uncertainty.

He sat on his knees and watched the slaves— _No, these people are now free,_ he thought—all walked past him. Some gave him tentative smiles, others bowed to him with teary eyes. Those less shy and trodden by slavery clapped him on the shoulder as they passed, and when Oola and Silais emerged they pulled him to his feet and threw their arms around him.

"You have lifted my doubt, Master Jedi," Oola said. "We will forever be in your debt."

"You owe me nothing," Obi-Wan said gently, shaking his head.

"We owe you our lives," Oola argued.

"Then live them well," Obi-Wan said before turning his head to look down at young Silais. "Don't let this experience change you. I remember a boy so vibrant with life and goodness, that I knew he would change the hearts of people some day. I hope to see that boy again."

Silais stared down at his feet, but slowly raised his head to meet Obi-Wan's eyes. A grin slowly spread on the boy's face, and Obi-Wan matched it with his own.

They walked out into the quarry together. Just before they reached the wide ramp leading out towards the compound—and the relief brought by the Stewjon Security Forces—Obi-Wan sensed a presence he hadn't felt in years. Unable to prevent his surprise his heart began beating fiercely against his ribs.

"What are the odds?" A very familiar voice said. The tone was light, almost teasing.

Obi-Wan turned his head, and though he wanted to smile, the last time he'd seen the man standing before him now he'd born witness to his descent into vengeance and stubborn hatred. Off balance by his sudden reappearance Obi-Wan did not know how to respond. He kept a guarded face, and said;

"Anakin."

* * *

Notes:

In hindsight, I could have written an entire book detailing this slave arc. Events in this chapter feels very rushed to me. I suppose I was impatient to get to what happens after. If I ever go back to edit the series, this is something I would probably spend more pages on.

To danthev: As always, thank you for the kind words.

To Guest: Thank you. I'm glad you're enjoying it.


	6. Chapter 6

You can thank Iridium12 for the fast update. They echoed an opinion that, as a reader, I hold as well. And since this story is already written in its entirety, I've decided to upload it all before I start travelling towards the end of March. That means I need to upload a chapter at least every three days. I spent most of the day reading over the rest of the story, and I think I've reached a point where I can say; This is good enough. As such, my update schedule will be two to three times weekly until the end of Resolve III. This also means that I may be slow responding to reviews, but please know that I read and greatly appreciate each and every one.

Thanks for reading.

Posted 12/2/2019

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

6.

A tense silence filled the small amphitheatre at the headquarters of the Stewjon Security Forces. Obi-Wan ran a hand through his almost dry hair and adjusted the collar of his shirt. He was grateful for the clean clothes offered to him by the SSF official, and especially grateful for the hot shower, but he still very much disliked the stiff and tight fitting collars that Stewjon fashion seemed to favour.

Obi-Wan sat at the back of the empty room, arms and legs crossed, and waited. He could sense Anakin nearby, along with a handful of other beings. No doubt they were dealing with the last few concerns pertaining to Djon Tarrek's compound.

When Anakin had shown up in that quarry Obi-Wan hadn't known how to respond. He still didn't, and he suspected he wouldn't until he'd had a chance to sit down and talk with the young man. Things had moved too quickly once the SSF had arrived at the compound, and clearly Anakin was deeply involved in the situation somehow.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and cleared his mind. In time all would be revealed, and while he waited a light meditation would be of great benefit. He was fatigued, having trudged through the past weeks with very little restorative sleep. When all was said and done Obi-Wan looked forward to finding a sleep couch and collapsing into it.

 _Soon_ , he told himself as he closed his eyes.

A light tap on his shoulder startled him to alertness.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to alarm you," Anakin said. "You weren't responding when I called your name."

 _I haven't drifted off during meditation since I was a teenager,_ Obi-Wan thought with a pinch of sullen annoyance. "It's all right," he said.

Anakin nodded his head and dropped into the seat next to Obi-Wan. "How are you?" He asked, voice neutral, but Obi-Wan could see a quiet curiosity, a calm concern, in the young man's gaze.

"I don't know," Obi-Wan said, and with some surprise realised it was the honest truth. "I've been a captive for two years, I have no idea what's going on in the galaxy, I don't know what's happened to the Jedi, and I just spent months safeguarding slaves from a madman when it would have been so easy simply to snap his neck and be done with it."

Obi-Wan shocked himself into silence, having not expected his voice to raise and build into vehement frustration. Stars, he was tired.

"You wouldn't be you if you'd done that," Anakin said softly.

Obi-Wan turned his head towards Anakin. The young man was leaning forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees, and appeared to be contemplating the pattern of fine lines on the skin of his hands. Obi-Wan said nothing.

"I watched you, you know?" Anakin said just before the silence could stretch into uncomfortability. "From the bluffs. For a long time."

 _Tatooine,_ Obi-Wan realised. He'd watched him with the Tuskens.

"I didn't understand why you would help them after what they had done," Anakin said. "You showed them compassion, when all they do is harm others. And here, now, again with this Djon Tarrek guy. . . You could have put him down, yet you didn't."

"Anakin, where is this conversation going?" Obi-Wan asked, rubbing a hand down his face and pausing to scratch the slight itch along his jawline.

"You're a better man than I will ever be," Anakin said. The earnestly spoken words caused Obi-Wan to snap his head up to meet Anakin's eyes. His expression was serious, not a trace of jest or mockery visible. "I hated Dooku for what he did to me. I hated the Tuskens for killing my mother. I hate them still."

Obi-Wan's tongue refused to move, his jaw clenching at the calmly spoken words.

"And I know that's not acceptable for a Jedi," Anakin continued. "When I was a kid I had dreams where I was a Jedi and I helped people. Other times I'd dream about going back to Tatooine to free all the slaves, except in those dreams everyone was afraid of me. Those dreams made me feel like I had power, and I liked it. And you know what I realised?"

"What?" Obi-Wan's voice came out in a whisper.

"Maybe I was never meant to become a Jedi," Anakin shifted in his seat as he said this, meeting Obi-Wan's tired eyes. "I'm not like you, Obi-Wan. I never was, and I never will be. I can't abide by the code when abiding by it means sitting on my hands and allowing people to suffer. I can't allow beings who treat others with cruelty to go unpunished because of a belief that all life is sacred. The Jedi values are too restrictive for someone like me."

"The code exists to prevent us from falling to the dark side, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, feeling the distress settling in his chest. "Our Force-given abilities are a great responsibility. To wield them selfishly and with hatred in our hearts is the fastest way of turning into what we fight against."

Anakin shook his head. "I won't fall to the dark side," he said. "I won't become like Dooku, but I will also never be a Jedi. The lines of both sides are too rigid. I can walk between them."

"You're choosing a very difficult path, my young friend," Obi-Wan sighed. He rubbed a hand over his face again, thoughts bouncing around inside his head. "With no code or council to guide you, how will you prevent yourself from allowing your passion to control you the way it did on Tatooine?"

Anakin leaned back in his chair and released a deep breath. He stared at Obi-Wan with eyes of steel. "I saw what it did to you when you found me like that," he said. "I'd never seen you so emotional before. Until then I didn't think it was possible. It forced me to reflect on everything I had done, on every moment we spent in that Tusken camp. I stayed there on the bluffs until I was certain you and the others had left Tatooine, then I went back to the Lars farm.

"Clieg and Owen let me stay with them for a time. I told them what I'd done and they reacted as though a burden had been lifted. They were happy that I'd killed Tuskens to avenge my mother. It was such a contrast compared to how you reacted. . . I was confused and upset for a long time. So I stayed with the Lars', and I helped out on the moisture farm while trying to understand."

"I'm sorry," Obi-Wan said, voice barely above a whisper. "I should have been there for you."

"No," Anakin shook his head. "You don't have to apologise. The time there gave me a new perspective on things. The harshness and volatility of Tatooine helped me see things a bit differently."

"How do you mean?"

"A krait dragon doesn't care that when it eats the milk bantha it leaves a tribe without one of its major food sources. The Tuskens don't care that they rip families apart when they kill moisture farmers," Anakin said, rubbing his hands as though a chill had suddenly set in. "The farmers don't care that they are doing the same when they retaliate against the Tuskens. I never saw the parallels until you showed those savages the same compassion you would show any core world being.

"I think I can now see your point of view. . . But I still can't live by the same standards," Anakin stood and stretched his shoulders. "I'm not good like you are, Obi-Wan. But maybe the galaxy doesn't need more good men right now."

Obi-Wan uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, resting his face in his hands. _What do I even say to that?_ He thought before pushing himself to his feet with the lethargy of a sleep-deprived man. "Have you heard news of the Jedi?" Obi-Wan decided to ask instead of addressing Anakin's admission. He wasn't one to skirt around difficult subjects, but he needed to alleviate his ignorance of the galactic situation before he could zero in on any particular issue.

"There has been no word," Anakin said after a moment's hesitation. "We've found one or two Jedi in hiding, but no one's heard anything about those who escaped Coruscant."

"Who's _we_?" Obi-Wan asked as he tried and failed to stifle a yawn.

"You're tired, maybe you shou—"

"Oh I'm exhausted," Obi-Wan interrupted with a raised brow, the dark patches beneath his eyes creating a vivid, unhealthy contrast. "But I need to know what's happened since the Jedi Temple fell. I _need_ to know, Anakin. All I've heard is that the Jedi have been blamed for the whole mess. . . Claims that we were working in cahoots with Dooku, attacking ourselves with droids to muster sympathy and support. How is that even. . . And something about galactic war. Please, just tell me what you know."

"All right," Anakin said, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "But let's at least get you some food first."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said with a tone of warning.

The young man sighed, knowing that as stubborn as he was, Obi-Wan could be twice as stubborn.

"All right, fine," Anakin said. "Come with me."

"Start talking," Obi-Wan said, his tone bordering on commanding.

"While we're walking," Anakin said with a placating gesture, then gave Obi-Wan little choice as he promptly turned around and left the room.

With a long-suffering sigh Obi-Wan started after his former padawan. Anakin waited for him in the brightly lit hallway, and as soon as Obi-Wan emerged from the amphitheatre he turned around and began walking again. With a few jogged steps Obi-Wan caught up to him.

"I was still on Tatooine when word reached me of what had happened on Coruscant," Anakin said. "This was two months after the fact, by the way."

"Two _months_?" Obi-Wan questioned, his surprise evident in his voice.

"Word travels slow in the outer rim," Anakin said. "Plus I was sort of avoiding the holonet. Anyway, I left immediately. Caught a ride on a freighter making a delivery run, and I got off on Naboo."

"To see Senator Amidala?" Obi-Wan asked as he dodged around a gathering of SSF officials. He spared them but a glance, and wondered why he and Anakin were even being allowed to roam the halls without an escort.

"Yeah," Anakin said as he turned down a new corridor. "At the time Padme was heavily involved in emergency Senate business. She was arguing a case for the Jedi, that they would never have involved themselves with Dooku and the Seperatist agenda."

"From the tone of your voice I'm guessing it didn't go well," Obi-Wan said.

"No, it didn't," Anakin sighed. "She was slandered as a Separatist sympathiser, and shortly after that the war began in earnest. Before that there had been skirmishes, mostly on worlds where Baktoid droid facilities are located, but after. . . The war has spread throughout the outer and mid rims, and it's estimated that the action will spread to the inner rim within the next few months."

"I've heard brief mentions of a rebel faction," Obi-Wan said, still keeping pace with Anakin.

"It started as a response to the Republic's rejection of the Jedi," Anakin said. "Many systems still see the Jedi as the galaxy's protectors, and argue that their disappearance can't be used as proof of any wrong-doing. But they can't publicly offer their support, because of what happened on Naboo."

"What happened on Naboo?" Obi-Wan asked, alarmed.

"Occupation," Anakin said, a scowl carving deep lines on his forehead. "Padme was forced to go into hiding when her pleas were twisted into anti-Republic propaganda. It's infuriating to think that. . . Nevermind. I managed to smuggle her off world, thanks to your training, but Naboo is still under guard. Clone troops are stationed there, they patrol the streets. There are kriffing curfews, and people are being imprisoned for as little as speaking out against the Republic's occupation there. The entire planet is enslaved. It's sickening."

Obi-Wan turned the information over in his mind. It didn't really surprise him. Palpatine was a Sith, after all. Still, it seemed a drastic measure to take to silence but one voice.

"So," Obi-Wan said as they entered a turbolift. "The Republic and Separatists are at each other's throats, and the rebels are trying to restore sanity to the galaxy?"

Anakin laughed. "That about sums it up."

"What a mess," Obi-Wan sighed, shaking his head.

"You're telling me," Anakin grinned.

"Who leads these rebels?" Obi-Wan asked as the lift began moving.

"That is a well-kept secret," Anakin said. "And it's probably best that it stays that way. At least for now."

Part of Obi-Wan was vaguely annoyed by that answer, but he understood why Anakin didn't seem to trust him with the information. "That is wise," he said. "But tell me this; Do I know them?"

"You know of them," Anakin said. "But I don't think you've ever met."

"I see."

The turbolift came to a halt. When the doors opened it revealed a wide hangar bay with several starships docked. Anakin led him over to a freighter of Corellian design. As they approached Anakin turned to him with a proud smile and said, "My ship!"

"You have your own ship?" Obi-Wan raised his brows, a half grin settling on his face. "How long have you had it?"

"Almost a year now," Anakin said as he activated the boarding ramp.

"And you haven't crashed it yet?" Obi-Wan asked mildly, an amused tilt to his brows.

"You make it sound like I crash every ship I get into, master," Anakin's smile dropped to a tight line as soon as he realised how he'd addressed his former mentor. Obi-Wan's face sobered, understanding that it was a slip of the tongue, but nevertheless wondering how the dynamic of their relationship would work now.

"It is a beautiful ship," Obi-Wan said, hoping to alleviate the moment of awkward reflection.

"Wait till you see the medbay," Anakin said.

"Oh I'd really rather not," Obi-Wan responded, holding up one hand and shaking his head.

"Just trust me," Anakin said, grin firmly back on his face.

Suddenly suspicious, Obi-Wan stretched out his senses, only to find a very familiar presence aboard the freighter. His mouth dropped open in shock and he looked at Anakin with wide eyes. Then, without waiting for an invitation he pushed past Anakin and ran aboard the freighter. Through its corridors he navigated by the pull he felt in Force alone, and when the medbay doors slid open to reveal a familiar face, Obi-Wan could not stop the tears from gathering in his eyes.

"Bant," he manged to croak through the emotion lodged thickly in his throat.

"Obi?" The Mon Calamari Jedi turned from the data terminal she'd been studying. "Obi!" She rushed to him and flung her arms around him. Obi-Wan pulled her close and did not bother to wipe away the tears trailing down his cheeks. He let them fall, comforted by the embrace of his oldest friend, as exhaustion finally caught up to him.

* * *

"How's he doing?"

Anakin had to think about the question. He took a deep breath before plopping down into the pilot's seat, next to a concerned Padme Amidala. He studied her for a moment, admiring the way her dark blue tunic clung to her curves. Annoyance creeped up on him when he glanced at the cowl wrapped around her shoulders and head, leaving only her eyes and brows bare.

She shouldn't have had to hide her beautiful face.

"It's like he's only just keeping himself together," Anakin said as he got up again. He crouched down next to R2-D2. The little droid cooed a few appreciative beeps as Anakin started cleaning the grooves between the plates of his outer shell. "It's freaking me out a little."

"It's freaking you out?" Padme asked, half a laugh escaping her in a puff of breath.

"Look, not counting the time I spent with Dooku, I lived with Obi-Wan for eight years. He's always been the picture of poise and control," Anakin said, struggling with a particularly stubborn stain on the astromech's dome. "Well, except for when we got caught in dangerous situations. He'd always react with this weird blend of humour and concern, and at the same time be in complete control of the situation. It's hard to explain, exactly.

"But now. . . I've never seen him so worn down. It's like he's a different person. He started crying as soon as he saw Bant. Actual tears, Padme. I've never seen him cry before."

"That doesn't mean he never has," Padme said quietly.

"Yeah I know," Anakin said. "I guess I'm just wondering what's happened to make him reach this point. It had to have been difficult."

Anakin kept scrubbing at the oily stains on R2's shell. When he'd found Obi-Wan sitting in the middle of that quarry he had a hard time believing what he was seeing. It had taken him a full ten seconds of studying the man to accept that it truly was Obi-Wan down in that rocky hole. Anakin had noticed the slight changes immediately; his sideburns had started greying, his skin was taut around equally tense muscles, and his eyes were slightly wild.

Anakin gave the cloth in his hand a sour look before tossing it aside. R2 spun his dome indignantly and moved to retrieve the cloth, clearly unhappy at the young man's half-done job.

"Have you spoken to him about what he's been through since the attack on the Jedi?" Padme spun her chair to face Anakin more fully.

"No," Anakin took the cloth from R2, but made no move to continue scrubbing down the stains. "Since the compound cleanup I've been stuck in debriefings. And when I did finally get to go to Obi-Wan he looked like the living dead. I couldn't bring myself to ask. He was also very determined to get as much information out of me as possible."

"What do you mean?" Padme leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees.

"He doesn't know any details about what's been happening in the galaxy," Anakin said. "I gave him the broad overview, but he has a lot to catch up on still."

"In time," Padme said. "Though in the meantime I suggest you return to Obi-Wan what's rightfully his."

Anakin gave her a rueful smile, ignored the pit in his stomach, and stood to fetch the object in question.

* * *

The galley was quiet. Nestled on one side of the small booth was Obi-Wan and Bant. They sat how they had since they were both barely old enough to wield training sabres; shoulder to shoulder.

"You really ought to get some sleep, Obi," Bant said softly, noticing how Obi-Wan's eyes were drooping, how his breathing had slowed.

"In a bit," Obi-Wan said, his stubborn refusal to sleep reminiscent of their days in the crèche. As a child Obi-Wan had experienced prescient visions during sleep. They were often disturbing to the young boy, and the logical conclusion had been simply to not sleep at all.

Bant sighed.

"I'm no healer, and I'm certainly no Vokara Che, Obi-Wan Kenobi, but I've known you long enough to see that you've been pushed well beyond your limits," Bant said, her voice taking on an edge of steel. "You need to rest."

It was Obi-Wan's turn to sigh.

"I know, Bant," he said.

"Then why are you being such a stubborn gundark?"

Obi-Wan swallowed, eyes staring straight ahead. Finally, with a whisper of a voice he said, "I haven't. . . I didn't know if anyone survived. Now that I'm here with you. . ."

Bant's breath caught in her throat, her silver eyes gaining a sheen as she took hold of Obi-Wan's hand. "I know what you mean, Obi," she said, and Obi-Wan could sense her sincerity, and that the past years hadn't been kind to her either. "But I will still be here when you wake up. We have a lot to do tomorrow, and if you hope to be halfway functional, you have to sleep. Now."

"All right," Obi-Wan conceded with a sigh. He stood and allowed Bant to lead him to the crew quarters adjacent to the medbay. At Bant's prompting Obi-Wan sat down on the lower bunk and began unbuckling his boots.

Once removed, Bant set Obi-Wan's boots off to the side, then waited until he lay down and closed his eyes before she turned and left the room. With a last glance back at her oldest friend, she slid the door shut with a gentle use of the Force.

A small sigh escaped her before she sensed the presence approaching her from behind.

"Is everything all right, Bant?" Anakin Skywalker asked.

Bant turned around and motioned for the young man to follow her. "Everything is fine, Anakin," she said. "Obi-Wan is resting." She watched Anakin's eyes stray to the closed door, an expression of frustration crossing his handsome features before he turned to follow her. She noticed the small case he was carrying in one hand, and understood—at least in part—where the frustration came from.

"I thought he was dead," Anakin said as they entered the galley.

Bant moved to the small counter and opened the top compartment. She pulled out a box containing small stores of tea leaves, and set about brewing a pot. "We all thought so," she said quietly, sensing the volatile mix of emotions the young man was exuding. She wondered, briefly, if he was aware of how much he was projecting. A moment later he withdrew into himself, and Bant breathed a silent sigh. Not of relief, but of consternation.

Pleasant as Skywalker had appeared since they'd found each other nearly a year past, there'd always been something elusive about the young man. She never dropped her guard around him, aware that he was hiding something. It could have been nothing, but Bant didn't want to take any chances.

* * *

The currents of the Force ebbed and flowed through Obi-Wan as he slept, sending his awareness on a journey through a space dotted with small pinpricks of light. He could feel the wind in his hair, and watched with muted awe as he neared one of the bright orbs. It was a star, shining purest white and blue.

He was flying through space, unaided by a starship, and decided that he was dreaming.

 _What are dreams, if not insight into the shifting tides of the Force?_

Obi-Wan felt his serenity slip away at the familiar voice, the familiar _presence_.

"How," he said into the starlit void around him, voice echoing as though yelling out over a great canyon. "Where am I?"

 _Fear not,_ the voice echoed around him. The presence as comforting as a warm embrace, yet Obi-Wan felt the beginnings of anxiety stretch around his mind. _Your exhaustion is bending your will, but you must not allow it to break._

 _Padawan!_

"Qui-Gon!"

Obi-Wan woke with a violent start, body shaking and sweat beading on his face, shirt wet on the chest as though he'd just run laps around the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. He sat up and ran his hands through damp hair. He furiously wiped at his face, noticing for the first time that not all the wetness on his face was sweat.

"What was that?" Obi-Wan whispered to himself. He rested his head in his hands, and sniffed. Digging the heels of his palms into his eyes, frowning and squinting against the gathering moisture, Obi-Wan wondered what was wrong with him.

With slow and deliberate movements Obi-Wan stuck his left hand into the pocket of his trousers, and extracted the kaiburr crystal. He closed his fist around the gem and focussed on calming his breathing.

 _Surely it was only a dream_ , Obi-Wan thought. But then, unbidden, he heard the voice of his old master echoing inside his head;

 _What are dreams, if not insight into the shifting tides of the Force?_


	7. Chapter 7

Posted 14/2/2019

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

7.

Obi-Wan didn't feel truly rested the next morning. He felt better, but he knew he was still skirting the edge of fatigue. The dream that shattered his restful sleep in the small hours of the morning certainly didn't do him any favours. Sleep had found him again after he'd calmed his breathing and his mind, but not before spending half an hour debating with himself over the authenticity of 'the voice'.

It had sounded like Qui-Gon Jinn. The cadence of the voice, the tone, the pitch, it was all as Obi-Wan remembered. Yet the words themselves sounded nothing like what Qui-Gon would ever have said. Dreams and reality did not intersect in the mind of Qui-Gon Jinn. The present moment was the only point in time that one had any ability to influence, and therefore it was where one's mind should be. The past was not to be dwelt on, and the future was an unknown that could become a trap of the mind if one allowed their thoughts to lingered upon it.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and stood up from the bunk. The Force had many mysteries, and Obi-Wan knew he wasn't about to solve them. So he pushed his anxieties away and focussed on the moment. He found a clean set of clothes set out for him on top of the small cabinet. He picked up the stack and stepped out of the crew quarters, and headed straight for the refresher. A shower and a change of his sweat-stained clothes would do wonders for his spirit, he decided.

Passing by the galley Obi-Wan noticed that it stood empty. When he reached the refresher without passing by either Bant or Anakin, Obi-Wan frowned, and cast his senses about.

He was alone on the ship.

Sighing, Obi-Wan stepped inside the small compartment and set the clothes next to the sink. Well, he would worry about where they were after he'd done his ablutions. With Jedi efficiency he set about his task and emerged from the refresher minutes later. The dark brown pants fit him perfectly, but the white shirt was a bit small in the shoulders for his liking. The fabric also hugged his skin a little too closely, but he wouldn't be picky. He returned to the crew quarters and retrieved his scuffed boots from where Bant had placed them the night before. After buckling them securely to his feet he then headed for the galley. He'd just begun to brew a pot of tea when he sensed three people approaching the ship. He recognised Bant and Anakin immediately, but the third gave him pause. Familiar, yet he couldn't quite put his finger on it. . .

A moment later the three entered the galley.

"Oh good, you're awake," Bant said as she walked over to the table and placed a container upon its dull grey surface. "You haven't scavenged for shipboard rations yet, have you?"

"It wouldn't surprise me," Anakin said with a little half smile. "Obi-Wan eats field rations while on Coruscant."

"Not as a habit," Obi-Wan defended with a raised brow. "And no, I have not yet eaten." He looked past Anakin then to the slight woman who walked in last. He caught her eyes and recognition flashed through his mind. "Senator Amidala," Obi-Wan greeted with a bow, and watched as she unwound the dark scarf from around her head.

"It's just Padme now, Master Kenobi," she said.

He nodded, understanding the position she'd been forced into, but not yet aware of all the details involved. There was much to discuss.

"Let us eat," Bant said as she opened the container. The scent of a cooked meal filled the galley and Obi-Wan swallowed. He hadn't realised how famished he'd been until the scent drew his attention to his loudly grumbling belly. He noticed three pairs of amused eyes on him. He cleared his throat, then sat down and allowed Bant to serve him up a generous helping of what looked like a meat and vegetable stew.

"Oh just a second," Anakin said before leaping out of the galley.

"What's gotten into him?" Obi-Wan asked once Anakin's steps had faded. He brought a spoon full of stew to his mouth and almost groaned in delight. It was the best thing he'd tasted in weeks, months even.

Bant shrugged and took a seat beside him. Padme slid in next to Bant and helped herself to the meal as well.

A moment later Anakin came bursting through the galley door again, holding a rectangular plastoid box. He walked over to the small dining table, a sort of hesitance to his steps that Obi-Wan found puzzling. Then he handed the box over to Obi-Wan without making eye-contact.

"This is yours," Anakin said.

Obi-Wan took the box, and as soon as he felt the weight of it in his hands he knew exactly what it was. He placed his spoon in his bowl and gave the box his full attention. With great care he popped open the lid's magnetic seal.

"Where did you find it?" Obi-Wan asked as he pulled his lightsaber from within the rectangular box. He felt its weight, the hum of the crystal within— _his crystal—_ and inhaled sharply. "It's in tact. . . How?"

"Bant found it on the black market a few days after the Jedi Temple fell. It hadn't been stripped yet," Anakin said. "Once our paths crossed she decided I should have it. She said that traditionally. . . That it's. . ."

Obi-Wan didn't need Anakin to elaborate. He knew the tradition, and had taken part in it himself. If a Jedi fell in battle it was tradition for either the master or the apprentice to remove the crystal of their lightsaber, and commit it to the archives. He'd done so for Qui-Gon's blade. . . eventually.

"I couldn't do it," Anakin said.

"Well, circumstances aside, tradition never was your strong suit," Obi-Wan said with a small twinkle in his eye. Anakin smiled sheepishly and sat down next to Padme at the round table. He pulled something from within the inner pocket of his jacket and handed it to Obi-Wan as well. "What's this?" The Jedi asked.

"Shoulder holster," Anakin said. "You don't want people to see you carrying a lightsaber. I modified that holster to fit yours. Wear a jacket over it and no one will notice it's there."

"Thank you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said as he tested out the harness. The lightsaber was nestled on his left side, against his ribs and within easy reach of his right hand.

"You're welcome," Anakin muttered before turning his attention to his own meal.

They ate in silence, but once Obi-Wan's bowl stood empty he could no longer wait for them to initiate the long conversation that they surely needed to have. Obi-Wan knew the galaxy was caught in a three-way war between the Republic, the Separatists, and the Rebels. But the details still eluded him. It was time for him to catch up to the world around him.

"Tell me how this war started," Obi-Wan said, tone serious, but not commanding.

Bant took a deep breath, ready to speak, but Padme beat her to it.

"After the Jedi escaped from Coruscant the Chancellor declared them enemies of the Republic," she began. "He cited that they were planning to stage a coup, plotting to bring down the democracy the Republic was founded upon. He provided proof, transaction records of trade agreements made between Dooku and the Baktoid droid foundaries on Geonosis."

"But Dooku hasn't been tied to the Jedi in over twelve years," Obi-Wan said.

"It didn't matter," Padme said. "Palpatine had both voice and holo recordings of Dooku striking deals with Jedi Masters."

"What?" Obi-Wan said, leaning back in his seat and tilting his head in surprise.

"I'm reasonably confident that those were faked," Padme said. "But it does look damning, and beings are often drawn in by the drama of a scandal. The media wasted no time in sensationalising the perceived facts. Public opinion of the Jedi turned sour almost instantly, and when no Jedi representative stepped forward to defend against accusations of treason, the Senate voted for the immediate disavowing of the Jedi Order."

Obi-Wan's shoulders sagged, strength and tension leaving him at the same time. Had he not been sitting down his knees might have buckled. He leaned his head back against the bulkhead, processing what he'd just been told. The Republic, which the Jedi Order had served loyally for thousands of years, had turned their backs on them so quickly.

"Dooku came forward," Padme continued. "Not in person, but he communicated via holotransmission. He disclaimed any association with the Jedi Order, but the Chancellor called his message a desperate attempt to distance himself from the _facts_."

"And those _facts_ being that he and the Jedi Order were in league to overthrow the Republic?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Yes," Padme said. "The level of mistrust sown in those first few weeks caused a division within the Senate. Some, like myself, believed that a greater deception existed. One that relied upon removing the Jedi as a factor in any attempts at a peaceful resolution. Others believed the lies, and more still were too timid to raise rational discussion. Especially once the loudest voices for the Jedi cause were silenced."

"Yourself?" Obi-Wan said softly.

"Yes, among others," Padme said. "I know the Jedi would never be capable of the treason they were accused of. There is a greater deception going on here. I'm sure of it."

Obi-Wan sat up straight once more. "So the war began once the Jedi were disavowed?" He asked.

"Yes," Padme said sadly. "And it grows in scale by the day. More and more systems are being drawn in and devastated by the battles."

Obi-Wan let the information sink in.

"I still have friends within the Senate," Padme continued. "They are keeping a low profile while doing what they can to stand against the oppressive regime the Republic is fast turning into."

Obi-Wan stood and walked over to the teapot. It had steeped too long. He dumped the contents and began anew. "What can you tell me about the rebel faction?" He asked.

"It started as an underground movement shortly after the Jedi Order was disavowed," Padme said. "Their goal was to remind the Republic of all the good the Jedi has done for the galaxy over the ages. They tried to sow doubt that the Jedi would ever turn against the Republic. As the war spread the displaced and disillusioned came forward to give their support to the Jedi, hoping it would draw them out of hiding. But the more time passed the more people started to believe that the Jedi had been all but wiped out. Strange how the perceived death of the Jedi Order bolstered people to stand up for what was right, instead of draining the hope from them. All they needed was someone to organise them. And once that happened the Alliance was born."

"The Alliance fights most of their battles with propaganda," Bant chimed in. "But they don't shy away from actual battles. They've liberated a few worlds from Separatist or Republic occupation in the last few months. They target their efforts at weakening both sides of the galactic conflict, through controlling hyperspace lanes and refuelling stations, mostly."

"Are you part of the Alliance?" Obi-Wan asked his three companions. They glanced at each other, as though checking to see if it was prudent to inform Obi-Wan of their situation. _Interesting,_ Obi-Wan thought.

"We are," Padme said, then amended. "Bant and I are."

Obi-Wan turned his eyes on Anakin, curious about his silence. As Obi-Wan continued to watch him, the young man stood and headed for the door. "You're not part of the Alliance, Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked him before he could leave the room.

"No," Anakin paused by the door, and said, "I've decided not to take sides right now."

Then he left.

Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the empty doorway. His puzzlement was written in the lines of his face, the crinkling of his forehead and the slight squint of his eyes. "I don't understand," he said. "Anakin is one of the most decisive people I know."

Padme sighed while Bant placed her webbed hand gently on Obi-Wan's knee.

"He's not the boy you remember," Bant said.

"No, I don't believe that," Obi-Wan said. He stood and moved towards the door. "He's always had strong opinions. If he hasn't picked a side there has to be a good reason for it."

"Obi," Bant said with a pitch that conveyed urgency. Obi-Wan rested a hand against the bulkhead and turned to face the two women still sitting at the galley table, and gave Bant his full attention. For a moment Bant merely stared at him with a compassionate gaze. Then she said, "He's not the boy you remember. The past years have shaped him in ways that you may subconsciously choose to ignore, because it will be easier. But please, Obi, don't fool yourself. It will be harder if you do."

Obi-Wan frowned. He doubted anything could be more difficult than watching Anakin brutally tear through living beings in a fit of rage. The shock of that moment was cemented in his memory, and he doubted that whatever Bant was implying would come close. Nevertheless, Obi-Wan nodded his head and said, "It would be a disservice to Anakin if I were to view him in a light of my choosing. Don't worry, Bant. I will keep an open and honest heart."

* * *

He found him as he had so many times in years past. It felt like a lifetime ago. Anakin was shorter then. _Much shorter,_ Obi-Wan thought as he stood quietly in the doorway and watched the young man tinker with the ship's electronics. That was one thing about Anakin that Obi-Wan suspected would never change. He would always find excuses to lose himself in the workings of machines.

Obi-Wan stepped into the room with casual grace, not truly wishing for a confrontation, but knowing that it was probably inevitable. Anakin's neck was tense and he handled his tools with a firmness that bordered on aggression. His body language spoke of a man closed off to those around him, and so Obi-Wan found himself startled into wide-eyed surprise when Anakin was the first to speak.

"We need to talk," the young man said before dropping his sonic wrench to the floor, the metal tool hitting the ship's durasteel with a loud clang.

Obi-Wan allowed his stare to linger on the wrench for a few seconds, then he met Anakin's eyes with a raised brow and said, "You've grown fond of dramatic effect, it seems."

"Look," Anakin said, wiping his hands on a ragged cloth before taking a seat on the lone chair in the room. "Last night didn't leave much time for. . . After our last parting had gone so poorly. . . Well, I didn't even expect to find you on this planet."

"Yes," Obi-Wan softly agreed. He crossed his arms and leaned against the bulkhead. "It was the will of the Force."

"Don't start with that," Anakin said, frowning. "I don't want to hear about the will of the Force any more."

Obi-Wan's head tilted in surprise. He stood speechless for a moment, then found his voice again and said, "Anakin, the Force guides us all. As it guided Qui-Gon to you on Tato—"

"Yeah and then he died!" Anakin lurched to his feet, hands balled into tight fists at his side and lips pressed into a thin line. His brows cast heavy shadows over his eyes. "Master Qui-Gon found me, and freed _me_ but not my mother. And then he died. And then she died. And it's all the will of the Force. Getting kidnapped by Dooku was also the will of the Force, right?

"I'm not interested," Anakin took heaving breaths as small tremors ran through his limbs. "I'm not interested in bringing balance to the Force and fulfilling some ancient prophecy. It's intangible and unreasonable!"

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, then stilled. He hadn't been prepared for the storm of anger.

"You want to know why I never told you what happened on Serenno?" Anakin continued. "Dooku gave me books to study. Ancient Sith texts and histories. He tried to convince me that the Sith path was righteous, and that the Jedi were too self-obsessed to accept the differing point of view."

"He was attempting to manipulate you, Anakin," Obi-Wan said, careful to keep his voice strong, but calm.

"I know," Anakin scoffed and crouched down next to his toolbox. He began organising its contents. "I did wonder, but he was doing a poor job of convincing me. Especially once he and that crazy Doctor Arbor started with the drugs. The Chancellor was furious when he saw what Dooku was doing to me."

Obi-Wan's limbs stiffened to an unnatural stillness. Anakin took no notice of his former mentor's sudden upset.

"He called Dooku unworthy and made him swear to release me as soon as I had recovered from the toxic shock," Anakin closed the box and pushed himself to his feet once more. He turned, mouth opening as though he were about to say something more when he caught sight of the older man's face.

Obi-Wan looked at Anakin with wide-eyed confusion, jaw clenched and eyes beseeching. He opened his mouth, closed it and swallowed before looking away.

"What?" Anakin asked.

"You knew?" Obi-Wan asked, voice quiet. "You knew that. . ."

Obi-Wan trailed off. He couldn't voice it out loud. Already he could feel the poisonous tendrils of betrayal wrap themselves around his throat. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths, still unable to look at Anakin. But he knew he had to get through this.

"You knew then already that Palpatine is the Sith lord the Jedi Order has been looking for since the Battle of Naboo?" Obi-Wan forced his gaze to meet Anakin's in time to see the young man drop his own line of sight to the floor. Anakin remained mute, and that was answer enough for Obi-Wan. He pushed the betrayal away to prevent it from muddling his thoughts. If he started thinking about it he would realise that that made Anakin indirectly responsible for the deaths of the countless Jedi who fought to secure the escape and survival of the Order.

"You said nothing," Obi-Wan said, voice so quiet it was near a whisper.

"Palpatine has always been kind to me," Anakin said, raising his chin. "Ever since I came to Coruscant he's alw—"

"You said nothing!" Obi-Wan's voice rose, anger and disappointment finally threatening to overwhelm him. "The lord of the Sith reveals himself to you and you say _nothing_? Why in Force's name would you keep that information to yourself?"

"Well clearly you figured it out on your own," Anakin said, his own voice and anger rising.

"But not in time," Obi-Wan said with a shake of his head. His voice now contained a note of weariness, as though the energy had been drained from him. "And countless. . ."

Overwhelmed, Obi-Wan left the room and walked quickly through the ship's corridors. He could feel the emotion rising in his chest, choking him, and fought to push it away. He walked by Bant and Padme without making eye contact and headed for the ramp. He felt Bant's gentle probing through the Force, her compassion, and he gently warded off her attempt to give him comfort. He could not let her weather this storm with him. Not yet, not until he regained control of himself.

He left the ship and headed for the nearby turbolift that he knew would lead him to the upper levels of the Stewjon Security Force's headquarters. He entered the command for the top most level and upon reaching it he headed straight for the stairs leading to the roof. The door leading outside was locked, but Obi-Wan quickly bypassed it with the Force. He walked onto the roof and dropped to his knees in a simple meditation posture.

He would be of no use to anyone until he'd reclaimed his deeply disturbed serenity.

* * *

Bant hesitated on the steps. The last time she'd felt such deep sadness from Obi-Wan had been after Qui-Gon's death. He'd hidden it well back then, even among other Force-sensitives. But Bant had known.

Obi-Wan was an open book to her.

It was all in the subtleties. She saw it in the way he'd become quiet without seeming withdrawn, and in how he stuck to a schedule without deviation or tardiness of any kind. She saw it in the frequency of his meditations, and in the focus of his lightsaber and Force training.

He'd become as efficient as a machine after Qui-Gon's death.

Not a day had gone by where Bant didn't worry for her friend. She'd had her own duties to attend to. Duties that often sent her far away from Coruscant. And while little Anakin had attended intensive classes to catch up on course work, Obi-Wan had spent his time in the training halls.

Bant knew, because it was their tradition to keep tabs on one another. The hard work had seemed to help him, so she'd said nothing. But things were different now. He wasn't now surrounded by a thousand of his peers the way he had been back then. He'd been alone since the Temple on Coruscant got sacked.

Bant sighed sadly, her expressive silver eyes shrinking into melancholy slits. She'd been alone too, but at least she'd been safe, far away from Coruscant when things took a turn for the worse.

The door at the top of the stairs opened slowly, drawing Bant's attention to the frame and the figure silhouetted against the bright sunlight of the outdoors.

"You've been standing there for some time," Obi-Wan said softly. He turned and walked back out onto the roof. Bant allowed herself a small smile at the open invitation. That was Obi-Wan's way. He'd make everyone around him feel at ease, even while he was struggling.

Bant climbed the stairs and joined Obi-Wan on the roof outside. She placed a brown leather jacket over his shoulders to ward the chill from him. They leaned against the elegant durasteel railing and watched great towering clouds roll in across the blue sky from the east.

"I'm worried about you," Bant said. There was no point beating around the bush. Not between such old friends.

"I know," Obi-Wan said softly. "And I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Bant said. "Much has changed, and we've had little time to adjust."

"Have you found any other Jedi?" Obi-Wan asked.

Bant saw the deflection for what it was. "Obi. . . Are you all right? And don't try to dodge the question. I know you're particularly skilled at twisting conversation to suit yourself, but I'll have none of that today."

Obi-Wan turned to her with a smile, his eyes accenting the expression with a note of sadness. "I thought I was," he said. "And then I learned that the massacre could have been avoided, if only. . ."

 _Massacre,_ Bant thought. It was true, though. She knew many Jedi escaped from Coruscant, but she'd also seen the holonet footage where Jedi corpses were being burned on the steps leading to the main entrance of the Jedi Temple. At the time she'd wondered how many of her friends were being added to the pile. It was horrifying.

And then she came across Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala while making a surreptitious escape from the slums of Corellia. She'd hidden herself away with the dregs of society after the Republic began hunting the Jedi who'd been away from Coruscant at the time of the big attack. She learned of the Sith from the young man in the weeks that followed, and quietly wondered how long he'd known.

 _Too long,_ Bant thought as she looked at Obi-Wan. She'd always known that Skywalker thought about things differently than his Jedi peers, and that Obi-Wan had done his best to guide the headstrong boy. But clearly his captivity with the Sith had greatly confused him. Bant could think of no other reason why the otherwise decent young man would have held his silence regarding the Sith.

"Do you blame him?" Bant asked.

Obi-Wan's hold on the railing tightened, and it took him a long time to answer. Finally, he said, "The blame lies with me."

"How do you figure that, Kenobi?" Bant frowned. At the use of his last name Obi-Wan turned to face her fully, a single eyebrow raised in a comical expression of confusion. "You're not responsible for anything Anakin Skywalker does or doesn't do. Or say."

"I was his master, Bant," Obi-Wan said, incredulity clear in the minute tilt of his head and pitch of his voice.

"And was it Qui-Gon's fault when you decided to leave the Jedi Order to stay and help Melida/Daan?"

"That was completely different, Bant," Obi-Wan said. "I was a naïve thirteen year old boy, and it was my decision and my mistake to make."

"And Anakin's decisions and mistakes are his own," Bant's voice came out strong, leaving no room for rebuttal. Obi-Wan stared at her with slack-jawed comprehension. "You never stop at carrying the blame for your own follies. You always have to take it one step further and accept responsibility for the mistakes of others as well. As noble as that may be, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you cannot carry the galaxy on your shoulders alone. They're far too small for that."

Obi-Wan looked away, and for a moment Bant almost regretted her harsh words. But no, he needed to hear them, and the two of them have never been less than honest with one another.

"I'm still as much a fool as I was at thirteen, it seems," Obi-Wan said softly.

"A fool is something you've never been, Obi," Bant said, eyes softening as she reached out to place her hand over his on the railing. "You are simply the most compassionate being I ever had the pleasure of knowing. And that sometimes worries me, because occasionally it means you end up hurting yourself."

For a time they stood in silence. The clouds descended upon the tallest buildings, sweeping past them and obscuring their tops from sight. Next to Bant Obi-Wan inhaled sharply, then released the breath with slow control.

"It is what it is," he said.

Bant knew it was as close to acceptance as any of them would ever get.

"Come," Bant said. "We're due for a final meeting with the Stewjon Security Forces in an hour. They still need to hear your side of things."

Shoulder to shoulder Bant and Obi-Wan made their way down the stairs and to the turbolift. Bant worried for her friend, but the spark of determination hadn't yet dimmed from his eyes, despite the blows he'd been dealt.

That gave her hope. And for now, it was enough.


	8. Chapter 8

The start of this chapter was a bit of an experiment. I hope it doesn't confuse.

Posted 17/2/2019

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

8.

Obi-Wan stared at the swirling shapes created in the ephemeral expanse of hyperspace. How long had it been since last he could sit and merely listen to the indistinct whispers of the Force in that space between destinations. The last time he'd been cognizant of such travel the Jedi Temple had still stood untainted by the wails of war and murder.

 _You go headlong into danger._

Freedom. What was freedom. Obi-Wan knew he'd survived his brief—relatively speaking—enslavement unscathed, but the larger oppression remained. The Republic itself now stood against the Jedi. The Jedi were being persecuted, and therefore no longer free beings.

 _I know it is your duty. The day I let you go was the day I gave up any right to appeal to you, but I also did not expect to ever have the chance to do so. Please, forgive an old woman her weakness, and grant me this one request?_

Battles raged, even as he stood there, content to simply bask in the currents of the Force. But where were the remaining Jedi? Where did they flee to. . . Where would Yoda have led them?

 _When this is all over. . . And I know it may take many years. . . But when it's over. . ._

The obvious places would have been searched already, and had the Jedi exodus been discovered it would not have been kept quiet. Had the remains of their destroyed ships been discovered, it would not have been kept quiet either. Therefore, Obi-Wan believed they had found their way to safety. It was more than belief, he _knew_ with a certainty so clear it could only be from the Force itself.

 _Come back?_

Obi-Wan would find the Jedi. Of that he was certain as well. He had to, because the task ahead was not within his power to tackle alone. A Sith sat at the head of the Galactic Republic, and was using propaganda and war to turn an already unstable government into a discordant structure where the powerful pressed down on the oppressed and kept them pinned in strife. Fear was gaining a stronger hold over the galaxy by the day, and as fear ruled the Sith and his choking grasp became stronger.

 _As much as my heart wishes to, I cannot make such a promise. It would be an undeserved cruelty upon you, should I break it._

Turning away from his mother's teary eyes had been one of the most difficult things he had ever done. But why? He'd spent mere hours in her company. Was a parental bond truly so strong it could transcend even the Jedi teachings so ingrained in him? But no. He'd let go. Despite the pull he felt to her he did have the strength to not make empty promises, and to let her go. He would think about her, now that he'd met her, but he would not feel pain or longing when he did.

Acceptance, in all things.

He was a servant of the Force, and bound by more than duty.

 _I understand._

Had she truly understood? Obi-Wan had sensed her pain, but also her strength. Beyond that he'd sensed her acceptance, but also her hope. Hope was the lifeblood of a strong spirit. Her hope would carry her through the turmoil his sudden appearance had caused her. But he'd sensed joy in her as well.

 _I don't understand the ways of your Force, but I thank it for allowing me to see the man you have become._

Obi-Wan sighed and pushed himself away from the cockpit's starboard side bulkhead that he'd been leaning against. He slid his left hand into his pocket and palmed the kaiburr crystal that rested there. The third, and final gift from his mother. The first had been life, the second relinquishing him to the Jedi.

"What are you thinking so hard about?"

Obi-Wan turned towards the petite woman who'd quietly walked up behind him. He'd sensed her approach, but had hoped she'd leave him be. Yet, he would not be rude. So he replied, "Things that a Jedi ought not be troubled by."

"Such as?"

Obi-Wan almost sighed again. He should have known that his soft spoken words wouldn't serve as deterrent to further questioning. Not from this woman.

"Padme," he said, addressing her by name in an attempt to stall for time. How did he explain this to her? He did not need to, but he almost felt compelled to discuss it now that she'd asked. "On Stewjon I very unexpectedly met the woman who gave birth to me. And now I am trying to unravel how that has changed me. If it even has."

He watched as Padme closed the gap between them and grabbed his hand, pulling him along towards the galley. "Come on," she said. "Anakin tells me you prefer to have a cup of tea in your hands during serious discussions."

Obi-Wan wasn't sure he wanted any part of any discussion regarding the quake that had recently travelled through his life. But on a small ship travelling through hyperspace solitude wasn't easily found. A truth expressed even more harshly when they entered the galley and found Anakin already sitting there with a cup of caff and a datapad.

He hadn't spoken to Anakin since Stewjon.

"Obi-Wan," Anakin said with a nod of greeting. His brows were drawn, as though he wasn't sure what to expect, but was ready for a confrontation nonetheless.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, returning the nod and deciding to ignore the bantha in the room.

As if blissfully unaware of the tension between Jedi Master and former Jedi Padawan, Padme walked over to the supply cabinet and started pulling down mugs and a bag filled with tea leaves. She set water to boil, and kept her back turned to the two men.

"Is it the Prime Minister?" Padme asked, her back still turned as she worked.

Obi-Wan stood half in the doorway still, looking at Anakin. Anakin stared back, waiting, frozen like an animal who'd spotted a predator. Or perhaps like a predator who'd spotted prey. Obi-Wan didn't care to ponder the thought past that point.

"Yes," Obi-Wan simply said, and finally looked away from the stormy gaze of the young man. Instead he set his eyes on Padme, who turned to face him with a smile.

"I suspected as much," she said, half laughing. "The resemblance was uncanny. Not to mention the last name."

"What are you talking about?" Anakin said, seemingly unwilling to be left out of the conversation taking place in his presence.

"Stewjon's Prime Minister is Obi-Wan's birth mother," Padme said with a tone suggesting she was discussing nothing more important than the day's weather forecast.

Obi-Wan nearly groaned in dismay as Anakin's mouth fell open and his sharp eyes darted to him for confirmation. Instead, he settled for clenching his jaw and taking a very controlled breath, in through the nose, and silently—very silently—out through the mouth.

"What?" Anakin finally voiced. "Obi-Wan, is that true?"

"Hmm?" He said, turning towards Anakin with an impassive face, brows raised ever so slight as if it hadn't been an earth-shattering revelation for him. "Oh, yes. Yes," he said. An attempt at playing it off as unimportant.

"How can you be so. . ." Anakin gestured almost wildly. "So _calm_ about that?"

Obi-Wan was anything but calm. He was actively working to release his agitation into the Force. Well-meaning as Padme Amidala was, she'd stirred up a sarlac nest with her interest and now Obi-Wan had no polite way to escape the attention.

Padme handed him a mug of hot tea then. He quietly thanked her and watched as she took her own cup over to Anakin. She sat down and leaned into the young man with a comfortability Obi-Wan was unused to observing from the woman.

And then she kissed Anakin on the cheek.

Which caused Anakin to grin as he placed his arm around her shoulders.

Obi-Wan stared at the pair with mild confusion. He didn't know how long he'd been staring at them, brows pinched and mouth slightly agape, until he realised Anakin was looking at him again and voicing something.

"Obi-Wan, are you all right?" the younger man asked.

"I'm. . ." He trailed off, staring at a point on the table near Anakin and Padme's arms. Was he all right? No, of course not. Everything was different. His padawan— _not your padawan anymore, not a Jedi anymore—_ was showing open affection for a woman who reciprocated his feelings. A very natural thing to occur, of course. . . for a non-Jedi especially, but. . . Anakin.

He'd known about the Sith and hadn't said anything. And even now he didn't align himself with any side. Not even the side Padme was fighting for.

"Obi-Wan?" Padme asked, half out of her seat, concern showing clearly in her eyes.

With tea still in hand Obi-Wan walked out of the galley and straight towards the crew quarters where he knew he'd find Bant. Maybe she could make sense of the galaxy for him. Force knew he was struggling. The Jedi Master in him had seemingly fled, replaced by an insecure youngling.

By the time he all but stormed into Bant's small quarters he was nearly hyperventilating.

"Obi?" She said as she sat up and dropped her datapad to her pillow.

Obi-Wan stumbled and fell over the threshold, and dropped the mug. His shoulder hit the ground first, but the mug never shattered. He held the fragile porcelain in the air with the Force, the spilled liquid floating alongside it. Hyperventilating now he managed to put the liquid back in the mug and floated it over to himself. He took a big gulp, hands shaking.

"Obi," Bant kneeled next to him, trying to get him to release the mug. He was drinking too fast and breathing too quickly. "Obi stop," Bant said, voice even but laced with trepidation. "Stop before you accidentally inhale the tea."

She took the mug from his hands and placed it on the floor, then coaxed him to sit on the edge of the sleep couch. "Slow breaths in through the nose, Obi," she said. "That's it. Out slowly through your mouth. That's it."

Moments later his breathing had calmed, and Obi-Wan immediately leaned over onto his knees, dropping his head in his hands. Bant rubbed gentle circles on his back.

"I don't know what's come over me," Obi-Wan said. "Bant, have I gone mad?"

"Not at all, Obi," she said. "Trauma simply has a way of catching up to us."

"I'm a Jedi Master," he argued. "I should be more balanced than this."

"You are still human, Obi," Bant said, her voice a soothing reminder that he was with his oldest friend. "You've been through so much. From the moment you were sent to Kamino up until this moment, not once have you had a respite. This episode is simply the Force's way of telling you that you need to _rest_."

"How can I rest now when there is so much still to do, and so much confusion still regarding Anakin," Obi-Wan sat up straight again and rubbed a hand across his forehead.

"Anakin may not be directly involved with any side," Bant said. "But his work is helping the Alliance."

"What work?" Obi-Wan asked.

"He hasn't told you?" Bant frowned.

"We haven't spoken much," Obi-Wan admitted. "I've been avoiding him since I learned how long he's known about Palpatine."

Bant sighed. "Costly as it may have been, consider his silence on that matter a confused teenager's lapse in judgement."

Obi-Wan nodded his head. Anakin had certainly been confused then, and in turmoil.

"What work?" Obi-Wan asked again.

"He's been working to dismantle slaver rings," Bant said. "That's how we ended up on Stewjon. He'd heard a rumour that one of the Zygerian slaver rings had sold a Jedi. After investigating he learned the truth, but he didn't know who the Jedi was. They had no name for him. For you. He brought the Alliance the information and allowed us use of his ship to investigate."

"The Alliance is comfortable with Anakin moving about their circles as he pleases?" Obi-Wan picked up the mug and calmly took a sip.

"Comfortable, no," Bant said. "But Padme has assured them that he would die before betraying her."

"I hope her faith is not misplaced," Obi-Wan said. A weary sigh escaped him.

"For what it's worth," Bant patted Obi-Wan's knee. "I don't think it is."

Obi-Wan nodded his head in acknowledgement, but within he still felt the stirrings of trouble. He could not explain it, and the more he tried to grasp onto the feeling, the faster it receded from his conscious perception.

 _I am very, very tired,_ Obi-Wan finally admitted to himself.

* * *

Two days later when they reached Alderaan the reality of the galactic situation finally became clear to Obi-Wan. He stood in the back of the cockpit as Anakin relayed landing codes to a Republic checkpoint that had been set up in orbit. As they were cleared and flew past to enter the atmosphere, Obi-Wan caught sight of a small fleet of starfighters docked to the small space station.

Military craft hovering over a peaceful world was a prime example of the contentious changes brought about since the Jedi were sent into hiding. Obi-Wan could not help but wonder what things looked like on the ground. Were military troops patrolling the streets?

"It looks bad from here," Padme said, having noticed Obi-Wan's focused gaze upon the military installation. She was seated in the co-pilot's seat. "But this station is the only military presence in the Alderaan system. They have been lucky so far. Bail Organa spoke convincingly enough in the Senate, and stepped down with enough grace to prevent his home planet from being occupied the way Naboo is."

Obi-Wan could hear the regret in her voice.

"It won't be that way forever," Anakin muttered as he took Padme's hand in one of his own. Obi-Wan turned and left the cockpit, unsure if his need to escape the presence of the two younger humans had to do with their open displays of affection, or the fact that Anakin was piloting the ship with one hand.

R2-D2 trilled a pleasant greeting as he passed, and Obi-Wan spared the droid a small wave as he walked by, the door sliding closed behind him. He made himself comfortable in the galley and submerged himself in the Force.

Alderaan felt like a gentle breeze within the cosmic currents. It held a purity Obi-Wan had sensed only on a handful of planets he'd visited. Peaceful worlds, worlds vibrant in life, all shared this trait. It was soothing.

Upon landing Obi-Wan left the ship with Bant at his side. Snow-topped mountains stood tall on either side of them, and Obi-Wan had to call on the Force to keep himself warm. He wasn't dressed for snow.

Padme, Anakin and R2-D2 led the way towards what looked like a communications outpost set atop the plateau. It's muted colours caused it to blend in with the environment, and Obi-Wan was certain that it would become nearly invisible during a snowstorm.

Obi-Wan shook snowflakes from his hair once they were sheltered inside the building. The space was well lit, and as they descended a set of stairs that opened up into a wide concourse, Obi-Wan realised that the structure sitting on top of the plateau was merely a facade designed to hide something far more impressive.

A middle-aged man greeted them, before waving them down a wide hallway. Padme appeared to know exactly where she was going, so Obi-Wan simply followed along.

"I'll catch up with you later," Anakin said, then veered off down a different hallway. Obi-Wan nearly protested, then again remembered that Anakin was no longer answerable to him.

They entered a spacious room with a large holo projector set up in the middle of the room. Several figures were seated around it, but only a handful were physically present.

"Ah, Padme," a tall man smiled and stood to greet the newcomers. "I'm glad to see you've returned safely."

Obi-Wan recognised the man. It was Prince Bail Organa. He'd seen the man in the Senate a handful of times, but had never met him in person. Obi-Wan noticed how Bail's eyes travelled to him, and for a moment lingered upon the scar that ran across the right side of his face.

"Is this the Jedi?" Bail asked, his voice taking on a note of surprise. "So it was true and you've actually tracked him down? This is excellent news."

Obi-Wan looked past Bail Oragan to the figures seated around the projector. He did not recognise anyone else physically present, but of the holoprojections he recognised Senator Mon Mothma from Chandrila.

"Yes," Padme said, smiling as she beckoned Obi-Wan to draw level with her. "And not just any Jedi. May I present Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was instrumental in the Battle of Naboo twelve years ago. I'm sure we will benefit greatly from his wisdom."

Outwardly Obi-Wan did not react, but within he was taken aback by Padme's clear assumption that he would be assisting them with whatever it was they were planning. She'd never consulted him, and he wondered if that was the politician within her attempting to manipulate him.

"The Force is kind to us," Bail said, smiling warmly. He held out a hand to Obi-Wan. "Welcome, Master Kenobi."

Obi-Wan shook the proffered hand, but frowned. "I thank you for your warm welcome Prince Organa," he said. "However I must admit I'm rather ignorant of what Padme has signed me up for.

"For the fight against tyranny, of course," Senator Mon Mothma said from her hologram. "As a Jedi I am certain you have first-hand experience when it comes to safeguarding liberty."

"Of course, Senator," Obi-Wan said. "But we find ourselves in a situation vastly different from warring tribes or trade blockades. The Jedi Order itself was the first casualty of this war."

The silence that reigned after Obi-Wan's statement hung heavily in the room. Bail Organa frowned and a few of the people present dropped their eyes to the floor. Quiet dismay spread across each and every face.

"Do you mean to say that what Chancellor Palpatine is saying is true?" Bail asked, breaking the silence when no one else would. "The Jedi are. . . They're gone?"

"I don't believe so," Obi-Wan said, making sure to speak with a strong voice. One filled with conviction and determination. "The Jedi who were not on Coruscant at the time of the attack are scattered. Those who escaped Coruscant were led to safety by Master Yoda himself. I do not doubt for even a moment that they survived and found safety."

"Did you see the footage of the attack?" A Twi'lek man Obi-Wan didn't recognise asked. "The footage from Coruscant showed the Jedi Temple in ruins. It showed their escape vessels disappear, jumping to hyperspace before they even left the atmosphere. Desperation is what it was. They could have jumped straight into a star for all we know."

"They did not," Obi-Wan said calmly.

"How can you be certain?" Mon Mothma asked, not unkindly. "We all hope that the greater Jedi force is alive and well. But they have not shown themselves in over two years."

"I would have felt it, had they all perished so suddenly."

"How?" Bail's quiet voice asked.

Obi-Wan met the man's eyes briefly, and saw compassion in them. He realised then that the people in the room truly believed that the Jedi Order had fallen. That whatever belief in the Jedi's survival and eventual return they showed publicly was merely a façade to bolster the spirits of those suffering beneath the oppression of Palpatine's Republic and the conflict with the Confederacy.

"I was in the Temple when the clone army attacked," Obi-Wan said. "I fought to secure the escape of our younglings and wisest masters. I was there when the Temple Guard fell within the walls they'd sworn to protect. I felt each and every life lost that day slip into the currents of the Force. A Jedi feels more than just the physical sensation allowed by our nerve endings. We see more than what our eyes are capable of perceiving. We feel the flow of the Force, and the Force penetrates and binds everything together. If hundreds or thousands of Jedi died at once, it would have caused a ripple within the currents so strong that a trained Force-sensitive, like myself, would feel it, even while lightyears away.

"Master Yoda and the Jedi Order still lives," Obi-Wan finished, conviction strong in his voice.

"Then where are they?" Senator Mon Mothma asked. "Why have they decided to hide?"

That was a question less easily answered. In truth, Obi-Wan had no idea why Master Yoda decided to erase the Jedi's presence from the galaxy, but he could make an educated guess.

"Ten thousand," Obi-Wan said. "The approximate number of active Jedi in the galaxy before the attack. The clone army numbers well over a million. Would you take those odds after already having suffered an ambush, Senator? Or would you disappear until a different avenue presented itself?"

"But we _are_ that avenue," Padme said, voice heated, determined. "Surely if they've been keeping an eye on what's been going on in the galaxy they would have realised that they have allies."

"Perhaps they don't know," Obi-Wan said. "Master Yoda may have felt it necessary to resort to extreme measures to keep the surviving Jedi hidden from the Sith. They may be isolated."

"Are you suggesting that they may have fled into wild space?"

Obi-Wan glanced at Senator Mon Mothma as he considered her question. It was certainly a possibility, but he felt that wasn't the case. "The simple truth is that I don't know. It's all speculation at this point, but I will begin searching for them as soon as I can acquire a discreet vessel. Preferably with at least a class one hyperdrive installed."

The figures around the projector glanced at one another with unease, some with confusion. Again, it was Senator Mon Mothma who spoke first. "You do not intend to stay and help the Alliance?"

"I am but one Jedi," Obi-Wan said, successfully keeping the weariness he felt out of his voice and posture. "I would better serve the goal of peace by finding the Order."

"Then I'm coming with you," Bail Organa said, voice authoritative. He gave a firm nod in Obi-Wan's direction, even while the rest of the room's occupants began a furious discussion. No single voice could be distinguished above the rest, as everyone spoke at once. Some gestured to Bail, while others threw their arms up in the air.

Obi-Wan stared at the spectacle, alarmed at the behaviour. This was as aggressive a non-violent disagreement as he had ever played witness to.

Unwilling to let the situation dissolve into complete incivility Obi-Wan closed his eyes and drew in the Force. He brought it down upon the room, its presence so startling that those physically present immediately tapered their words to silence, not understanding why they suddenly felt the need to look at the Jedi. Those present via hologram took note of the sudden shift in disposition of their peers, and fell silent as well, following the line of sight to the Jedi Master.

"Forgive me," Obi-Wan said calmly. "Such a technique is usually only used to quiet a room full of rowdy Force-sensitive younglings. I felt it necessary in this instance because we don't have time to waste on senseless tantrums."

Out of the corner of his eye Obi-Wan saw Padme hide her lips behind a gloved hand, but the shining of her eyes betrayed her clear amusement. Bail Organa simply looked upon Obi-Wan with a startled, wide-eyed expression.

"Prince Organa, my search will likely be dangerous and could take a very long time," Obi-Wan continued. "Your prolonged absence would draw Palpatine's suspicion. That is not something I imagine this Alliance can afford."

"No," Bail sighed. "No, you're right Master Jedi. However an Alliance representative would need to speak to the Jedi when you find them. To convince them our cause is worth coming back and fighting for."

Obi-Wan brought a hand up to his beard, his fingers idly playing with the strands as the room watched him consider the Prince's words. The Jedi were peacekeepers, but there was no denying the Order's bloody past. Whether to enter a new war or not wasn't a decision Obi-Wan could make for the entire Order. He wasn't even sure yet what he thought of everything that was transpiring in the galaxy.

The only clarity he felt in the entire ordeal was his acute awareness of the growing strength of the dark side. The strife in the galaxy fed it, and the longer the wars dragged on the worse it would become.

"I cannot speak for the entire Jedi Order," Obi-Wan said. "But when I find them I will tell the High Council of what is happening in the galaxy. The decision will be theirs to make."

"I'll send Artoo with you," Padme said. "He carries an encrypted database of galactic events post the Jedi Temple sacking. It will help you and the Jedi council get up to speed."

"Unbiased?" Obi-Wan asked. He was all too aware of the manipulative games politicians played.

"It covers all facets of the conflict," Padme said, voice stern. "Artoo's database also contains a subsection of articles written by scholars of neutral worlds. Their varying opinions are enlightening, and something the Alliance pays close attention to. The Jedi should as well."

"I will give you a ship," Bail said, rapidly drawing the conversation away from political discourse. "And don't worry, it's of common design and untraceable. I've been holding on to it for just such an occasion."

The generosity drew Obi-Wan's suspicion. He didn't trust politicians. So few weren't self-serving, and he didn't know Bail Organa well enough to determine whether or not the ship would come with strings. But Obi-Wan was nothing if not polite. He gave a small bow in the Prince's direction, and said, "Your generosity will not be forgotten, Prince Organa."

* * *

Another two days later Obi-Wan stood outside the pristine Corellian freighter. It was a class smaller than the one Anakin had acquired, but no less impressive.

"Make sure you find time to rest, Obi," Bant said. They stood at the entrance of the freighter's boarding ramp. Bant rested her hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders before drawing him in for a quick hug.

"You know me," Obi-Wan said as they drew apart again.

"And that's precisely why I worry," Bant frowned. "I'm being very serious here, Obi. I know how important what you're doing is, but there's no substitute for proper rest and meditation."

Obi-Wan nodded his head, and decided not to tell her that his meditations had been as disturbed as his sleep.

"Where's Anakin?" Obi-Wan asked as he stepped aside to allow Artoo entrance into the freighter.

"He's meeting with a contact of his and won't be back until tomorrow," Bant said.

"I'm not happy with how I left things with him," he sighed.

"He'll understand," Bant said. "And if he doesn't I'm sure Padme will make him."

Obi-Wan couldn't quite bring himself to smile at the jest. He worried a great deal about Anakin Skywalker. Deciding to revisit the thought later Obi-Wan turned his attention to the immediate future. It was time to leave and begin his search for the Jedi Order.

He met Bant's eyes, and for a moment no words were needed between the two. They'd grown up together, and could hold entire conversations with just their eyes. There was much to say, but none of it truly needed to be said. Tradition, however. . .

"Miss you, I will," Obi-Wan said with a small grin. They'd greeted each other in imitation of Master Yoda's speech patterns since they were younglings, and had never quite grown out of the habit.

Bant laughed quietly and held the side of his face for a moment. "See each other again, we will," she said.

After a final fond glance back at his oldest friend, Obi-Wan entered the ship and closed the boarding ramp. He found Artoo in the cockpit, where the little astromech droid was already plugging in the navigational data. With little delay Obi-Wan started the ship's systems and took to the skies. It took but a moment for their clearance codes to give them the green light, and they left Alderaan behind.

Artoo confirmed the coordinates for the journey through hyperspace, and a moment later Obi-Wan activated the jump sequence. The instant they began travelling in that ethereal realm Obi-Wan felt an icy prod on his senses.

There was another living being aboard the freighter with him.

"Stay here Artoo," Obi-Wan said to the droid. He quickly made his way down the narrow corridor and headed straight for the small galley, hand clenching around his lightsaber. A deep line appeared between his brows. He slid the galley door open with a gentle Force-nudge, and his eyes fell on the man seated comfortably at the small table.

"How did you hide your presence from me?" Obi-Wan asked, voice deceptively calm. He released his vice-like grip on his weapon and waited for the man to respond.

Bail Organa had stowed away.

* * *

A/N: I couldn't help myself. I loved reading about how Obi-Wan and Bail's friendship began in the Wild Space novel, and I just had to bring him into the story I am telling.


	9. Chapter 9

Posted 19/2/2019

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

9.

The two men silently stared at one another far longer than either deemed comfortable. The Jedi patiently waited for an answer, while the Prince had a single eyebrow raised in an expression that, contradictorily, expressed both contrition and defiance.

The stalemate was finally broken when R2-D2 rolled up behind Obi-Wan and bumped into the man's legs.

"Artoo, I told you to stay put," Obi-Wan said as he spun around to face the droid. A series of beeps and trills and another gentle shove—that seemed to signify _get out of the way please—_ was the only response the droid gave. Obi-Wan shook his head and stepped aside, allowing the astromech entrance into the galley.

With the tension successfully broken Bail Organa cleared his throat and said, "I apologise for the deception, Master Kenobi."

"Deception does appear to be a mainstay of politicians and monarchs," Obi-Wan's tone was droll, and he had no qualms about making it known that he wasn't pleased with the man sitting in front of him.

"Tell me the truth, Master Kenobi," Bail said. "Would you have let me come along had I not invited myself?"

"Of course not," Obi-Wan replied without hesitation. "I thought we had established that your prolonged absence from the public eye would lead to suspicion and unwanted scrutiny. In fact, I should take you back to Alderaan immediately."

"This is still my ship, Master Kenobi," Bail said.

Obi-Wan sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. "I do not have time to play your games, Prince Organa."

"I'm not here to play games."

"Then why are you here?"

"I only wish to do my duty as a representative of the Alliance once we find the Jedi," Bail said, then stood to reach the supply cabinet. He pulled down a can and threw it to Obi-Wan.

The Jedi caught it without shifting his eyes away from the Prince.

"You still haven't answered my question," Obi-Wan said before looking down at the can in his hand. It was tea. Obi-Wan frowned. Tea was meant to be freshly brewed and drunk hot, and certainly not out of a can. He placed it down on the small table and crossed his arms.

Bail sighed.

"Very well, Master Kenobi," he said and pulled a round device from his pocket. It resembled a bracelet of some sort, but was far too bulky to be a simple accessory. Obi-Wan recognised the tech before Bail began to elaborate. "I have a contact who knows a thing or two about disappearing. After I was forced to relinquish my position in the Senate he told me this would hide me from the senses of a Force-sensitive being. As a precaution. I thought he was being paranoid, and until today I'd never bothered with it."

"I've heard of such devices," Obi-Wan said. Then, after a small pause said, "They were invented as torture devices."

"What?" Bail frowned and placed the device on the table. He stared at it as if it were liable to explode. "How dangerous is it?"

"To you? Not at all I imagine," Obi-Wan said. "But I suspect that device works by isolating the midichlorians from the Force. For a Force-sensitive being that is. . . unbearable."

"I thought only Jedi had midichlorians," Bail said.

"Every living thing has midichlorians. Jedi simply have a whole lot more," Obi-Wan said, then in an offhand manner added, "And then there are beings like the Hutts who have almost none at all."

Obi-Wan leaned against the bulkhead, and frowned when R2-D2 released a series of happy noises and rolled out of the galley, as though saying, _My job here is done!_

"Back to the matter at hand, Prince Organa," Obi-Wan said. "Your absence will not go unnoticed. And where I am heading there is sure to be danger. I may not be able to protect you."

"I am quite adept at protecting myself, Master Jedi," Bail said. "As for my absence. . . My wife, Breha, she has it covered."

"Are you so certain that no one will ask questions?"

"After a time there will certainly be questions," Bail said, a proud grin forming on his face. "And that's when my Breha is most in her element."

Obi-Wan accepted the answer. He knew the Queen of Alderaan was a force to be reckoned with, but it still didn't sit well with him. "This is an unnecessary risk," he said.

"It is still my risk to take," Bail said. "I do not expect you to go above and beyond to ensure my safety. Like I said, I can take care of myself."

Obi-Wan studied the man for a moment. He was tall, physically fit, and for all his elegant clothes looked like a man who had indeed spent a great deal of time honing his body. He reached into the Force to study the man's intent, and found no ill-will within him. There was a spirit strong and fierce, but controlled. It was goodness.

"Very well," Obi-Wan said, still somewhat reluctant, but accepting that he would not change the man's mind. "We're heading for the Jedi Archives on Obroa-Skai first. I expect you to stay with the ship while I infiltrate and extract the information I need."

Obi-Wan turned his back to Bail Oragan then, and left the galley without a backwards glance. He felt the man's frustration as he left, but did not stay to listen to further protests. The Prince would have to learn to follow the Jedi's lead.

* * *

The fluorescent lights flickered, the wiring damaged by the preceding explosions. Electrical sparks shot off from the exposed circuitry of a control panel. The corridor's walls bore the marks of destruction, broken in some places and melted in others. Bodies lay strewn on the floor, and those who still lived moaned in pain.

Anakin calmly walked through that corridor. It had been so easy to infiltrate the slaver rig. It became easier every time he did it.

He stopped next to a moaning humanoid figure. Its species and gender was unidentifiable in the wake of its grievous injuries. Blood was caked thick on its face, blisters puckering the visible skin.

"Help," it begged in a voice raw from breathing in the devastating fumes.

Beneath his mask Anakin frowned. He reached around to the back of his belt and unclipped a cylindrical item from it.

"All right. I'll help you," he said, voice a calm monotone.

The figure on the ground sagged in relief a mere moment before the lightsaber was ignited. With its eyes closed the injured being never realised what was happening. It could not see the blade twirl towards its neck.

Anakin watched the heaving chest still, then moved towards the next groaning mound.

* * *

The Jedi Archives on Obroa-Skai appeared deserted. The public spaceport was within spitting distance of the Temple, and from Obi-Wan's vantage point the building looked more like a mausoleum than a place of knowledge. There had to be a reason why it was so deserted. Well, apart from the fact that the Jedi had been driven from it in the attempted purge. Or had the purge succeeded on Obroa-Skai? Would he find the horror of decomposed corpses within those walls?

Obi-Wan pushed the speculations from his mind. It would do him no good to dwell on them. One way or another he had to access those archives. He turned to his companions and said, "Prince Organa, stay here with Artoo and the ship. I will be back as soon as possible."

"There could be sentries," Bail said. "A second set of eyes would be advantageous."

"I don't have time to debate this with you," Obi-Wan frowned. He glanced around the busy spaceport, then back at Bail Organa. The man wore a helm, and leathers far removed from what he wore on Alderaan. He looked more like a mercenary than a prince. "For your own safety, please remain here. And do not contact me via comlink unless your life is at risk. Any signals could be traced and draw suspicion to my movements."

Bail turned towards the Jedi Temple. He looked away a moment later and surveyed the spaceport instead. A public spaceport it may have been, but there was a significant military presence there. Republic clone troopers could be seen refuelling their smaller craft, and up in the atmosphere a star destroyer floated. "Very well, Master Kenobi."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Thank you," he said. Without another word Obi-Wan drew the cowl of his jacket over his head and began walking to the public transport rail that ran past the Jedi Archives.

The sun hung low in the sky, and Obi-Wan waited among the throng of commuters for the next available train. It arrived scant minutes later, and the Jedi walked onto the very last car. Once the train began moving he blocked out all conversations around him and stayed centred within the Force. The Archives came up soon, barely sixty seconds since it pulled out of the spaceport station.

Obi-Wan shrouded himself in the Force, willing his presence to go unnoticed as he disabled the back door's silent alarm and slipped outside. With a carefully timed leap he flew off the speeding train and hurtled down towards the ground. The raised tracks made the journey a steep fall, but the Force slowed his descent and cushioned his landing upon the hard duracrete. The low light would have made him difficult to spot, but he sat crouched on his heels a moment anyway, listening, feeling.

All seemed clear, and so he sprinted, silent as a shadow, towards the archival building of the Jedi Order. Obi-Wan was grateful that the impressive structure still stood. He only hoped that the knowledge inside would be as whole as its outer shell.

A side entrance came into view, and Obi-Wan quickly ducked beneath its towering frame. Much as he'd expected, the door's sensors did not respond to his approach. All around the area lights sprang to life in the dying rays of sunlight. Buildings became illuminated in the yellow luminescence of the street lights, creating a path of brightly lit spaces all the way back to the spaceport.

Yet the Jedi Archives remained shrouded in darkness.

Obi-Wan rubbed his bearded chin and glanced around. If the temple had no power none of the entryways would function. And that meant he would not be able to access any information either.

The Jedi sighed and ran a hand across his brow.

 _I didn't come here to leave empty handed,_ Obi-Wan thought. He turned and made his way to the maintenance port at the back of the building. Once there he found the manual door override and struggled to shift the lever. He augmented his grip and strength with the Force, and breathed a sigh of relief when the rusty switch finally yielded. A small, square-shaped door in the wall slid open, and Obi-Wan quickly ducked inside.

The tunnel was narrow, the ceiling so low Obi-Wan had to walk through it half crouched. Having only visited thrice in as many decades, he didn't truly know his way around the Obroa-Skai Archives. It was a place where the Jedi Order's history was kept safeguarded. Most of the information stored there could be found in duplicate upon Coruscant, within the vast archives of the primary temple of the Jedi Order. But going there wasn't a risk Obi-Wan was willing to take. He would have to find what he needed on Obroa-Skai. . . and if he couldn't. . . he'd cross that bridge if he came to it.

It didn't take Obi-Wan long to find an access hatch and enter the hallways of the temple. Everything was plunged in darkness so black he couldn't see his hand in front of his face. He navigated through the halls by the Force alone, and before long he found himself where he felt he needed to be.

Obi-Wan stretched his hand forwards and his fingers came into contact with a cold, smooth surface. A metallic alloy of some kind. He ran his fingers along the panel until his fingers met a groove. The material changed, and he quickly recognised it as the synthetic plastic used on the surfaces of datapads and terminals alike.

He quickly bent down to his knees and ran his fingers along the sides, searching for the access panel. Within moments he found the indentation, but a sudden shift in the air made him seize all motion.

Obi-Wan felt his hair shift in a breeze with seemingly no origin point.

He should have felt threatened. Instead a feeling of purpose came over him, much like how he imagined a bloodhound felt once it caught the right scent. Obi-Wan followed his instincts and two isles later he was crouched at a different data terminal. It's contours felt different, round, like the console within the map room of the temple on Coruscant.

Obi-Wan pried open the access panel and his fingers quickly searched the circuits and connections. He found the disconnected power switch, but knew simply reconnecting it would do him no good. There was no power to connect to. The entire temple was dark.

Obi-Wan didn't let it discourage him. He took his lightsaber from his side and disconnected the diatium powercell from the hilt and set to work, rigging a rudimentary battery to power the console. His attempt was successful and the terminal came to life with a bright blue glow.

He quickly typed in search parameters, but could have kicked himself when the search failed. He'd powered a single terminal. Obi-Wan had created the means to access the information, but the data storage units were still very much without power.

"Stars end," Obi-Wan whispered into the dimly lit space. He didn't have another powercell.

 _You already have what you need._

Obi-Wan spun around, clenching the harmless hilt of his lightsaber in his hand. Had he imagined that voice? It was less a voice, and more a feeling that had been conveyed to him, a wordless nod of acknowledgement that translated into a very clear message. Obi-Wan quieted his anxieties and allowed the Force to flow through him. He felt a presence, obscured, yet somehow familiar. He couldn't place it.

"Of course," Obi-Wan whispered as he came to realise what he already knew. _Tutaminis_. With enough training a Jedi could absorb the energy of blaster bolts, electrical discharges— _sith-lightning_ , Obi-Wan remembered his battle with Dooku well—and some Jedi in history past had even sacrificed their lives to nullify violent explosions. And as a Jedi could absorb energy through _Tutaminis_ , a Jedi could also release energy.

With no source of energy to draw from Obi-Wan knew he would have to dig deep into the Force and his own stamina. He sat down on his knees and calmed his breathing, then touched his hand to the conduit piping leading from the access terminal to the data storage units. He could feel the inaudible hum of the circuits as they came alive with his energy. Obi-Wan felt the drain immediately, before the units had even powered up, and by the time the room was lit with the luminescence created by the online datadrives he was shaking, sweating, and breathing hard.

 _Just a little more,_ Obi-Wan thought. Sweat dripped down his nose as he staggered to his feet and re-entered the search parameters. The console lit up with all known Jedi worlds and their coordinates. Knowing he didn't have much time, Obi-Wan placed a dataglobe inside the port with shaking hands and began downloading the data. He then clenched his hands onto the sides of the console, struggling to keep the flow of his energy going into the data storage units. He watched the download's progress like a hawk, and the moment the console confirmed a successful and complete transfer he dropped his concentration. The room dimmed to near darkness almost instantly. The only light came from the console still powered by the improvised battery.

The strength left Obi-Wan and he fell to the floor, groaning as he was assaulted by a crippling headache.

 _I never want to do that again_ , he thought miserably as he tried to control his rapid breathing. He lay perfectly still and tried to draw in the Force's soothing currents.

A feeling of forewarning startled Obi-Wan into a seated position. He scrambled to disconnect the powercell from the terminal, and was instantly plunged into total darkness. With deft, if somewhat trembling hands he reassembled his lightsaber and pulled the dataglobe from the port. He secured both items on his person, then slowly climbed to his feet.

He stood there, still as a statue, and listened. The bad feeling hadn't left him, and suddenly his instincts told him to move. He ducked behind a colossal duracrete pillar just as a beam of light came shining in his direction.

"Is this it, Knot?" A man's voice said. A shock of recognition travelled through Obi-Wan's mind.

"Yes, sir," an identical voice answered. "The power spike came from in here somewhere.

Obi-Wan heard the sound of booted feet walk carefully towards the terminals, and thought he could identify seven, maybe eight sets.

 _This is wonderful,_ Obi-Wan thought with a wry grin. He was exhausted and about to be discovered by a group of clone troopers.

"Well, nothing in here is powered," one of the men said. Obi-Wan risked a glance around his pillar and saw the white-armoured figure holding a scanner.

Ahead of him another man walked up to the terminal Obi-Wan had used to download the map data. "Thermal's indicating residual heat," he said as he took off a glove and touched a bare hand to the console. "Yeah, still warm. Someone was here."

"How'd they power it?"

"Doesn't matter. Keep your eyes peeled for this rat."

Obi-Wan watched as the troopers held their weapons at the ready, and slowly moved further into the large room. Their helms lit the way for them and one kept an eye on their flanks at all times. Obi-Wan crept around his pillar, keeping it between himself and the clone troopers. He knew there was little chance of going undiscovered, but if he timed his escape well enough he'd have a head start, at least.

There came a moment where the rear guard briefly turned his head away, and Obi-Wan took the opportunity to leap from his hiding place with energy he didn't truly have. He sprinted towards the maintenance tunnel's access point, not bothering with stealth. He simply didn't have the energy reserves left.

"Over there!"

Obi-Wan heard the sudden pounding of feet behind him, and felt, more than saw the blaster bolts hit the corner shortly after he rounded it. He wormed his way through the access hatch and quickly slid it shut. With a deft stroke of his lightsaber he melted the edges of the sliding panel together. They would likely still get through it, but it would slow them down at the very least.

The breath left Obi-Wan's lungs in awkward puffs as he ran through the low tunnel as fast as his weary legs would carry him in the crouched posture. He nearly missed the warning in the Force when he barrelled through the outer opening and into the crisp night air, but he ducked just in time to avoid a blaster bolt to the head.

A clone stood barely a meter away from him, weapon raised to shoot again. Obi-Wan quickly shoved the blaster's line of fire away and stepped into the man's space with a martial move that had him pivot on his heal, drive his hip into the man's body, and take hold of the weapon arm, promptly throwing him over his shoulder and into the ground. The movement was Jedi-quick and the clone had no time to react.

Obi-Wan held the man down in a restraining hold, trying to think of what his next move should be. He had little time. None at all, really. But he couldn't simply let the clone go only to pursue him.

"Do you even know what you're fighting for?" Obi-Wan asked suddenly, barely aware that the thought had even formed within his mind, but once he'd spoken the words he realised he truly wondered if these men had any free thoughts.

"For the Republic," the man replied, groaning as he attempted to dislodge Obi-Wan's perfect submission hold. "To protect it from those who would seek to destroy it."

Obi-Wan used the Force to push the clone's weapon far, far away, then released him and created enough distance between them so the man couldn't simply lunge and reverse their positions. "So did the Jedi, before your kind ambushed and murdered them."

"The Jedi threw their lot in with the CIS and were planning to overthrow the entire democratic government," the clone said as he slowly stood and turned to face Obi-Wan.

"Lies told to justify the murder of _peacekeepers_ ," Obi-Wan said, emphasising the word. He knew he had to leave, but standing face to face with a single clone loosened his tongue and his better sensibilities. "I'm curious. . . Did you take part in the ambush on Coruscant?"

"I was there," the man said. Then, after a moment's hesitation he added, "And I remember you. It would be impossible to forget you after you single-handedly held the line and prevented my platoon from reaching the escape vessels before they took off. And on top of that you still evaded us."

The clone's voice held respect. Obi-Wan didn't know what to make of that.

"Why would you risk coming here, Jedi?" the clone asked.

"Because I am still that," Obi-Wan said. "A Jedi."

For a time the clone stood perfectly still, then with a shake of his head he activated his internal communications, but allowed his voice to still be heard by Obi-Wan. Startled by this Obi-Wan tensed his muscles in preparation to move.

 _I've lingered too long_ , he thought.

"East side's clear. Either he's still inside or he's found another way out," the clone said.

Obi-Wan frowned in confusion, the feeling intensifying when the clone removed his helmet.

"You should get a move on," the clone said.

"Why are you helping me?" Obi-Wan asked. He knew, from his visit to Kamino, and from living through the attack on Coruscant, that these clones were bred to follow orders.

"Because you held back," the clone said. "You defended your brothers and sisters, and tried not to kill mine unless you had to. You're my enemy because they tell me you are. But respect and honour can exist even among enemies. Go, Jedi. Live to fight another day."

Obi-Wan wordlessly began turning away, but stopped and asked, "What is your name?"

"My brothers call me Rex," the clone said. "And I know who you are, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi." Rex smiled, then said;

"The one that keeps getting away."

* * *

Bail Organa paced inside the freighter, helmet still firmly secured on his head. R2-D2 tootled in the corner, but the man paid the droid no mind. He didn't understand a blip the thing was saying anyway.

He stopped his pacing and glanced out the cockpit window at the distant Jedi Archives. Hours earlier he'd spotted a small transport of clones heading in that direction. Bail crossed his arms and resumed his pacing, but he kept scanning the bright spaceport with his eyes.

A figure jogged onto the lit landing zones, and Bail immediately recognised the Jedi Master. Even at that distance he noticed the uneven steps, the flushed face and the grimace. Bail quickly made his way to the landing ramp and lowered it. He didn't like this sitting around and waiting. He was a man of action, but the Jedi Master had been rather obstinate.

Once outside in the open air Bail saw the Jedi's approach more clearly. He could also see the clone troopers taking note of the exhausted man. They signalled something to one another, and Bail watched their body language for any warning signs.

It came a moment later when the clones startled into action and got into firm firing positions. Bail ran. He dodged a repulsor truck as it veered in front of him and pulled out his blaster at the same time. Two meters away from the Jedi, who by some strange phenomenon hadn't noticed him or the troopers, Bail leaped and tackled him to the ground just as the blaster fire began ripping over their heads. He wasted no time in pulling Obi-Wan to his feet and supported half the man's weight as they ducked behind the repulsor truck.

"Are you all right?" Bail asked, urgency and alarm clear in his voice as he returned fire.

"Had to. . . dig a little deeper. . . than usual," Obi-Wan said through shallow breaths.

Bail didn't need to hear more. He pulled the Jedi Master's arm over his shoulders and half carried him aboard the freighter. He quickly closed the ramp and dropped Obi-Wan to the floor. He rushed to the cockpit and fired up the ship's engines. A moment later they pulled away amidst a hail of blaster fire. Bail navigated the ship into the nightsky and shot out of the atmosphere. He was vaguely aware of Obi-Wan slowly dragging himself over to the copilot's seat and plopping down, still breathing hard.

"Artoo set a course," Bail yelled. "Any course! We need to get out of here."

Bail saw two star destroyers looming to their right, and one to their left.

"You better hurry Artoo," Bail said. The astromech trilled an angry rhythm and a warning lit up on the console. The star destroyers had locked onto their small ship with their canons. "No, no-no-no-no," Bail muttered as he waited anxiously for the droid to complete the calculations.

He turned his eyes to the Jedi Master to see him sitting there, eyes closed, expression calm. Calm or resigned, Bail couldn't decide. The cockpit lit up with the stark light of the destroyer's canons.

Bail understood the fear of a deathblow then. Yet somehow, it didn't come.

A strange warmth enveloped him, drawing his eyes again to the Jedi Master seated next to him. The man had his arms outstretched, and the cockpit started shining like a star. Light, and warmth. He didn't understand.

The canon fire missed.

Artoo tootled his success as the hud displayed the plotted course. Bail did not hesitate, and immediately engaged the jump to hyperspace.

Next to him, Obi-Wan Kenobi went completely slack.


	10. Chapter 10

Posted 21/2/2019

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

10.

He wasn't sure if he still existed. The weightlessness he experienced was more than an absence of gravity. It was an absence of physicality itself. Yet, as cottony and tangled as they were, his thoughts remained.

Somehow he was still breathing. The air felt like strength, like the rejuvenating chill after the rains in the forests of Tanaab. And that was another conundrum. How could he be cognizant of breathing when his body wasn't there.

 _It must be there, if I'm still alive,_ he reasoned within his mind.

 _And what does it mean to be alive?_

The question wasn't generated by his own muddled thoughts. Briefly, he wondered if he should feel threatened. He couldn't remember what he'd been doing before he ended up in this weightless, peaceful void. Clarity was difficult to grasp onto, but a single question formed, using an echo of his own voice, even though he knew his lips didn't move;

 _Who are you?_

No response was forthcoming.

 _Who are you?_ He asked into the void once more.

"Who-e-uuu. . ."

A pressure on his face alerted him to his discomfort. His fingers were tingling, his toes, and his eyelids refused to part. Most importantly, he could suddenly feel how heavy his limbs were.

"Don't try to move yet, Master Kenobi," a masculine voice said.

"Why?" He asked, voice hoarse and whisper-soft. There was a quiet hiss near his head, and again he tried to force his eyes open. The effort was exhausting.

"You've exhausted yourself," the voice said. "Rest."

He was getting tired of people telling him to rest, but despite his mild ire he could not ward off the fatigue. Awareness slipped away, and moments later he knew neither the heaviness of his limbs, nor the strange tingling in his extremities.

When awareness came to him next he was able to move an unsteady hand to his face where a line of pressure was still carved from cheek to cheek. Clumsy fingers stubbed against a smooth surface. He managed to crack open his eyelids, but could see nothing in the dim lighting. Nothing except for a handful of blurry, bright spots.

The hiss was still near his head. He forced his disobedient hand to splay the fingers and clamp down around the smooth device attached to his face. _Medical mask,_ his groggy mind supplied. He pulled it off and dropped it, not at all mindful of where it landed.

A tug on the back of his hand alerted him to the needle buried in the vein and the medical tape keeping it in place. He closed his eyes and tried to remember how he'd gotten himself in such a situation. The lack of anti-septic smell meant he probably wasn't in a medcentre. It should have disturbed him, but as woolly as his thoughts were he could still feel the Force, and it wasn't issuing any warnings.

He remembered Alderaan. Bail Organa stowed away, and together they went to Obroa-Skai. Right. He snuck into the Jedi Temple there and retrieved star data from its archives. He met a clone named Rex and then he went back to the ship. Somehow Bail Organa defended them both from a group of trigger-happy clones, and got him aboard the freighter. _I underestimated the Prince,_ he thought.

There'd been three star destroyers. By some mercy Bail Organa had evaded them.

Obi-Wan pushed himself to a sitting position. His muscles wailed their protest against the movement. A deep frown split his brow as a pain like a hammer blow started beating behind his eyes. He inhaled slowly through his nose, then opened his mouth to breath it out. His tongue felt like sandpaper and cotton balls.

The door slid open, flooding the small compartment with bright light. Obi-Wan groaned and raised his left, untethered hand to hide his eyes. The sound of quick footsteps bounced off the walls and a moment later Obi-Wan felt a pair of hands gently gripping his shoulders.

"Maybe you shouldn't be up yet," Bail Organa said.

"How long have I been out?" Obi-Wan asked, voice gravelly and hoarse. Bail moved away and a moment later pushed a cup of water into his hands. Obi-Wan drank slowly, savouring the cool mercy.

"Just under forty hours," Bail said. "I was starting to get worried and almost set course for Alderaan to get you to a medcentre."

Obi-Wan sighed in appreciation after emptying the cup. Bail stepped away again to refill it. "Your skill as a medic seems to have kept me alive," Obi-Wan said, half a grin making its way to his face.

Bail Organa chuckled and rubbed his forehead. "My skills as a medic are barely sufficient for first aid. All I did was make sure your oxygen and hydration levels stayed stable."

"Thank you, Prince Organa," Obi-Wan said in a soft tone. He took a deep breath then and asked, "Where are we?"

"On the Commenor Run, near Tepasi. And please, after you saved my life at Obroa-Skai I think we can drop the formality," Bail said.

" _I_ saved _your_ life?" Obi-Wan asked. "From my point of view the reverse is true. You prevented us getting shot _and_ escaped three star destroyers. By all decorum I should be kowtowing before you."

"You're teasing me," Bail accused, but was unable to keep his lips from twitching into a smile. His face quickly sobered, however, and that didn't escape the Jedi Master's notice.

"What is it?" Obi-Wan asked.

"You don't remember?" Bail said, his expression bordering on reverent.

"Remember what?" Obi-Wan asked, feeling uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

"A destroyer locked on to us, fired its canons. We were dead in space, except you. . . You did something. With the Force," Bail shook his head. "I'd heard tales of Jedi performing miraculous feats, but I never thought I'd witness one myself."

Obi-Wan frowned. "What is it you think I did?"

"You shielded the ship somehow, or deflected the canon fire. I'm not sure," Bail said as he dropped his hands to his knees. "But what I felt was unmistakable. It was like a blanket of warmth and safety. The light was. . . Soothing."

Obi-Wan's brows drew together in thought. He stared at the blanket covering his legs and tugged at his beard. He shook his head. "I don't remember it," he said, fiercely wondering why he could not. He sighed and released his anxiety. _It's not important_ , he thought.

Bail brought his hands together in front of him and glanced around the room. "I'll leave you to rest," he said.

"I appreciate your concern, Bail, but I have a decidedly urgent need to stretch my legs," Obi-Wan said. "Though I'm afraid my equilibrium is still a bit disturbed. Will you give me a hand?"

"You're very pale still, Obi-Wan," Bail tilted his head and half turned away. "I'll bring you something to eat."

"Bail, I was being polite," Obi-Wan raised his brows, and couldn't quite prevent his own amusement from displaying openly on his face. "I need to pass water."

"Right, of course," Bail said, releasing a puff of breath that almost sounded like an embarrassed laugh. "I'll help you to the refresher."

Hours later Obi-Wan sat cross-legged and straight-backed on the floor of the freighter's empty cargo hold. His hands rested on his knees, palms facing up. He opened his eyes, having just completed a deep meditation session. Aches still lingered in his body, but the worst of it was gone, his balance was restored and he no longer felt like a man who hadn't slept in days.

Even so, his limbs felt weak, the intermittent tingling in his fingers and toes still a persistent nuisance. He stood and clenched his hands into fists. The frailty of his grip was troubling, but he knew the debility was likely due to the extreme exhaustion he'd suffered.

During his meditation Obi-Wan had tried to recover the memory of the event Bail mentioned. He'd been mostly unsuccessful, and was still left without any indication of what he'd managed to do. All he remembered was a thunderous sense of the Force, as though it had taken over him completely.

Obi-Wan dropped his hands to his side and his musings to the back of his mind. He made his way to the cockpit where he found Bail Organa studying the star data retrieved from Obroa-Skai. The star systems were displayed as a sizeable hologram in the centre of the cockpit. R2-D2 _ooooo'ed_ at the spheres hanging in mid-air.

"This star map is wrong, or outdated," Bail Organa said.

Obi-Wan turned the co-pilot's seat to face the rear of the cockpit and sat down to observe the projected lights. "It's the oldest known recording of the galaxy the Jedi have," he said. "Thousands of years old."

"Then how is this useful to us?" Bail asked.

"Master Yoda would have picked a place of obscurity," Obi-Wan crossed his arms. "Some place strong in the Force, but not likely to draw the Sith's attention."

"And you think you'll find it in an ancient star map?"

"Possibly," Obi-Wan said, gently tugging at his beard.

"Could they have gone to a world with Jedi ties?" Bail asked. "As I recall Ossus was once the homeworld of the Jedi. Could they have gone there? What about Jedha?"

"I didn't expect you to be so well versed in Jedi lore," Obi-Wan grinned, eyes still roaming the map.

"I'm not," Bail argued. "I just happened to do a lot of reading after the Jedi vanished from the galaxy."

Obi-Wan traced the star systems with his eyes. Following the invisible line from Coruscant in the Leth-9 sector to Ossus in the Resh-6 sector, and finally to Jedha in the Herf-10 sector.

"Ossus would be too obvious and Jedha draws far too much attention from pilgrims and tourists," Obi-Wan said. He rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "Master Yoda would have picked a system one couldn't get to through the use of hyperlanes."

"What do you mean?" Bail asked, eyes tightening to convey the perplexity he felt hearing that statement.

Obi-Wan looked away from the map and met Bail's eyes. "The Jedi have kept one of our most sacred worlds hidden for millennia," he said. "No hyperlanes run near it. The Force guides our way to it."

Bail sat completely still, absorbing the words. He would have dismissed the idea out of hand if he hadn't, through Obi-Wan, seen what the Force allowed a mere human to do. "All right," he said. "Then maybe this world is where they went?"

"No," Obi-Wan said. "The climate there is far too inhospitable for a prolonged stay." His eyes drew to the core of the map. Several systems were indicated within the deep core. His eyes locked onto one system in particular, and he carefully manipulated the holomap to magnify the region. One planet stood out to him, and when he looked at its image it was as though the Force swelled within him, as though calling out to him.

"You think they're in the deep core?" Bail asked. "That's a very dangerous place, Obi-Wan. There is a reason the hyperlanes in that region no longer exist."

"Dangerous to hyperlane markers," Obi-Wan said. "Not to a Jedi following the Force's guidance."

Bail sighed and rubbed his eyes, then leaned forward in his seat to rest his forearms on his thighs. He gave the Jedi Master an uncertain look, and said, "Why hide in the deep core? Why not the outer rim or the unknown regions?"

"Because the deep core has something no other region has," Obi-Wan said. "The birthplace of the Jedi Order. The planet Tython." And as he voiced it Obi-Wan felt deep within himself a thread linking him to that place. It felt right.

"All right," Bail said. "If you're convinced you can get us there in one piece I have no objections."

Obi-Wan studied the ancient star map, taking note of previous, long forgotten routes and corridors within the deep core. He'd have to adjust for modern gravitational data to determine a starting point, and was abruptly thankful to have an astromech droid with him. The calculations would likely have taken him weeks to puzzle through.

"Artoo," Obi-Wan said, drawing the still _oooo-ing_ droid's attention to himself. "Please cross-reference this starmap's gravitational data with the present data. I need you to determine the safest point of entry into the deep core."

R-2's dome spun left, then right, and it wiggled from side to side while tootling angrily. Obi-Wan frowned and looked at the ship's display for a translation.

"No Artoo," Obi-Wan said, indignant. "This is not a suicide mission."

Another round of trilling followed. Obi-Wan didn't even look at the translation this time. He simply stood and left the cockpit, throwing over his shoulder as he exited, "Only Anakin would give a droid such robust personality algorithms. . . If travelling into uncharted territory frightens you, Artoo, I can always deactivate you for the journey!"

* * *

Every time he came home to her Anakin felt the rest of the world fade away. The war between the Republic and the CIS didn't matter. The Alliance's struggles didn't matter. Not even the slavers mattered.

As far as he was concerned, they were the only two people in existence.

"Padme," Anakin said with gentle affection. He'd been leaning against the door frame of her office, simply watching her, waiting for her to notice him. But she'd been too absorbed in her work. As she finally looked up her face lit up in a smile that Anakin swore was a window to the Force itself.

"Anakin!" Padme said, quick to jump to her feet to throw her arms around his shoulders. "When did you get back?"

"A few hours ago," he said.

"And?" Padme asked, her brows tilting in a show of minor concern. Anakin didn't like when her skin was marred by worry.

"Success. I've secured transponder codes that will allow the Alliance unimpeded travel through the Hutt space hyperlanes."

Padme smiled again, all traces of worry wiped from her face. Anakin smiled along with her.

"That will make matters easier," Padme said. "I don't know how you managed it, but the Alliance is grateful."

"Anything for you," Anakin said, meaning every word.

"I'm glad you've made it back so soon," Padme said, her face relaxing into a more subdued, almost nervous expression. "I have something to tell you."

"What is it?" Anakin asked, scenarios flashing through his head. Was something wrong?

"Anakin," Padme paused, her face flashing from apprehension, to happiness, and back to nervous resolve. "You're going to be a father."

Anakin could barely breath. He was shocked into silence, but then his brain caught up with his heart and the loudest thoughts were of protecting Padme and the new life growing within her.

"Say something," Padme whispered, brows pulling taut in concern.

Anakin smiled and in a loud puff released the breath he'd been holding. He pulled her into his arms and said, "You've made me the happiest man alive."

* * *

Travelling through space without the safety of tried and tested navigational equipment wasn't a new experience for Obi-Wan Kenobi. He'd done the same thing several times journeying to and from Ilum. Those had been simpler times, where the most pressing concern had been to successfully obtain a lightsaber crystal.

He remembered how nervous he'd been when, as a boy, he'd entered those caves for the first time. He remembered the grief he carried with him the second time. And he remembered the lightness of his soul the third time. Each journey through the caves of Ilum had left a distinctly different mark upon him, but only once had he set foot on that frozen planet without entering the caves. He'd been as nervous for Anakin as he himself had been as a boy.

That felt like a lifetime ago.

Obi-Wan held his eyes shut as he flowed with the Force, just as he'd learned to do to reach Ilum. Except now there was no experienced Jedi Master to show him the way. He was rediscovering what had been lost. Much as he imagined Master Yoda had done. It was remarkable how the Force increased in clarity the further they ventured into the deep core. Obi-Wan was the space outside, the solar winds, the ship itself. He was the asteroid belt around a shattered planet and he was the unseen particles hurtling through space. Obi-Wan was one with the Force, and the Force bound everything together.

A week had passed since they first entered the mysterious deep core region. Obi-Wan was taking it slow, immersing himself in the Force and travelling with short bursts through hyperspace before reverting and adjusting course. He'd sensed Bail Organa's fear in those first few days, but with every new discovery catalogued by the ship's onboard sensors, the man's tension eased a little. Obi-Wan no longer sensed fear from him, rather, he sensed a carefully controlled anticipation.

An anticipation that Obi-Wan shared as he reverted the ship back to realspace for the last time. Next to him Bail inhaled loudly as the cockpit window allowed them an unobstructed view of a blue and green planet morphing into view with the reversion.

"This is it, isn't it?" Bail asked.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. He sensed the truth of it. They had finally arrived at Tython.

A moment passed in silence as both men simply stared at the beauty of the globe in front of them. Obi-Wan noted several storm systems dotting the planet's surface. He noted the oceans, the land masses, and was surprised to see that half the planet looked barren.

"Obi-Wan?" Bail asked.

"Hmm?" He answered, distracted by his own thoughts.

"Instruments are picking up minor technological disturbances in the southern hemisphere, as well as signs of life," Bail said. "Shall we take the ship down?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan said, his voice almost a whisper. He piloted the ship towards the planet at just the right angle for entry into the planet's atmosphere. The heat-shielding protected the ship from the incredible friction, but the orange glow it generated was still visible.

And then they were in the atmosphere, flying through dense, white clouds. They travelled over great green valleys and towering, snow-topped mountain ranges. And finally, the mountains opened to a land of green grass and rivers, and in the distance an ancient towering structure stood. Obi-Wan headed straight to it, feeling the Force swallow him like a tidal wave. And then he was certain that his brothers and sisters were down there. So many of them, and yet, far too few.

Obi-Wan rubbed a hand across his face and swallowed thickly. He took a deep breath and slowed the ship after spotting a clear area next to a line of starships. Starships that he recognised.

In the distance he noticed figures running towards them, fanning out around the chosen landing strip. He touched the ship down gently, and powered down its systems.

Bail laughed. "We've made it!" He said.

"We have," Obi-Wan said, a grin slipping onto his face as relief flooded his veins. He stood and left the cockpit, heading straight for the boarding ramp. Bail followed closely behind him, but before Obi-Wan moved to lower the ramp he said, "Wait here please, Bail. Considering the circumstances they will be wary. It shouldn't take long to set everyone at ease."

"Of course," Bail said. "I'll check on Artoo."

Obi-Wan nodded, and watched as Bail disappeared into the galley where the astromech had last parked itself. He turned his attention to the ramp then, and lowered it. Below he could sense fourteen beings. Eight stood near the ramp, while the remaining six were spread around the ship.

They were all incredibly tense, the Force storming through them.

Obi-Wan walked down the ramp with his arms to his sides, raised slightly in a non-threatening posture. Bright sunlight hit his eyes as soon as he was down the ramp, and he had to squint against the glare. Feeling the sun on his face was a welcome sensation after spending well over a week aboard a starship, but he could not lose himself in that particular moment.

Before him the Jedi stood, rigid, hands on the hilts of their lightsabers and hoods raised, obscuring their faces in shadow. None of them moved, and none chose to be the first to speak.

Well, Obi-Wan was good at talking, and so he opened a channel with a simple, gentle, "Hello."

Silence.

Obi-Wan dropped his hands to his sides and sighed. "You know, I've a had an interesting two years," he said. "I'm sure you have as well, but I doubt you've all lost your ability to speak."

"State your business," one of the Jedi said.

Obi-Wan thought that was a rather curious request. He doubted the Jedi got many visitors out all the way on Tython, but he decided to humour them in the most direct way possible;

"I am Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, and I'm looking for Master Yoda."

A ripple traversed the plenum, resulting in many of the Jedi around the ship relaxing their postures. Obi-Wan even sensed surprise from a few.

"There is someone else aboard your ship," the Jedi to Obi-Wan's left said. His face was hidden, but from his build Obi-Wan surmised he was either human or teevan. Perhaps zabrak.

"Yes, a friend to the Jedi," Obi-Wan said. "Prince Bail Organa of Alderaan."

Footsteps alerted Obi-Wan to the movement of the Jedi behind him. He did not need to turn around to know what they were doing. Still connected to the Force, still flowing with its currents, a part of Obi-Wan _was_ the ship. So when the Jedi began dismantling the ion conversion module of the engines he knew it immediately.

"Is there a reason you're taking my ship apart?" Obi-Wan asked, his voice taking on an edge of tempered steel.

The Jedi continued their task without acknowledging his question, but the one in front of him tilted his head slightly and shifted his feet, as though carefully considering his words. Then, he said, "You will not be needing it."

"And why is that?" Obi-Wan asked. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like the answer. A moment later his feeling proved true.

"No one leaves Tython."


	11. Chapter 11

Note: Mother nature decided to strike lightning down upon my life. I've lost my computer, my internet, and various other things I won't get into right now. Fortunately I had enough foresight (or paranoia) to backup all my files in the cloud. I will try to keep updating 2 to 3 times per week until this story is posted in its entirety (the last chapter will be ch18), but please bear with me if there are delays. I have a lot of stressful things ahead of me.

Thanks for your understanding, and thanks for reading.

Posted 24/02/2019

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

11.

Jedi younglings learned much about Jedi lore through fables and fantastic tales told by the crèche masters. Older Jedi would often look back upon their own youths in fond remembrance of the mischief those stories inspired. The legend of Tython was a half-truth cleverly spun to tell the tale of the Jedi Order's origin. A half-truth, because the modern Jedi Order never thought it fitting to tell children that the Jedi's history was wrought with the bloodshed of war upon war.

Sith against Jedi, Jedi against Sith, and Tython is where it all began.

The air of the planet was much like the air of any other world with vast deciduous forests, grasslands, woodlands, mountains and seas. Obi-Wan breathed in air that was as bleak as the eyes of the Jedi who had finally decided to remove his hood. The Zabrak's pale golden skin did little to offset the ice in his eyes.

"You cannot be serious," Obi-Wan said. Behind him the other Jedi continued dismantling the important bits of starship engineering genius. He paid them little mind, because at least they were being methodical and not simply cutting the ship apart with their lightsabers.

"It is the grandmaster's orders," the Zabrak said.

Obi-Wan turned away from the Jedi before him when he felt Bail Organa's alarm in the Force. A moment later the man was running down the boarding ramp.

"What in star's name is going on here!" He demanded, eyes darting from the dismantlers, to Obi-Wan, to the ship, and back to Obi-Wan. It was clear Bail wanted to say something rather vehement, but was holding himself back because the present company seemed rather determined.

"I'm sorry, Bail," Obi-Wan said. "It seems we'll be stuck here a while. At least until I can convince master Yoda to let us leave."

"What is going on here, Obi-Wan?" Bail rubbed his hands against his legs, eyes still conveying his alarm.

"I don't know. Yet," he said. "For now I think it's best if you and Artoo stick close to me."

The astromech chose that moment to casually roll down the ramp, as though it knew it would be summoned. It warbled with a ruckus that Obi-Wan could only describe as profoundly indignant.

"Very well," Bail sighed.

Obi-Wan turned to face the Zabrak Jedi once more. Despite the strangeness of the situation, Obi-Wan felt only a vague sense of unease. There was no malice in these Jedi, and he knew they believed they were doing what was necessary. Still, it worried him to see behaviour that could only be labelled as _fearful_ in beings who spent their entire lives learning how to avoid becoming bound by such debilitating feelings.

Jedi were supposed to overcome their fear, not feed it by forming odd habits, that, at the end of the day would have little effect against the truly determined.

"What is your name and rank?" Obi-Wan asked the Zabrak Jedi.

"Druvo Doxor, Jedi Knight," he replied almost immediately.

Obi-Wan bowed his head, more than a nod, yet less than a bow, and said, "Knight Doxor, please lead me to the high council."

A slight grimace was the only indication that he was hesitant, but when Obi-Wan did not break eye-contact, Druvo Doxor turned on his heel. "This way, Master Kenobi," he said.

"Bail, Artoo," Obi-Wan said before he started following the Zabrak Jedi. He kept his attention on them until he was certain they were following him—with apprehension in Bail's case—then turned his eyes forward again to stare at the knight's back. Obi-Wan had a great many questions, but knew he needed to be patient. It would serve little purpose cross-examining a knight when he'd soon be face-to-face with the masters who made decisions for the entirety of the Jedi Order.

The group walked along a paved path leading all the way to the ancient Jedi Temple in the distance. The stone was worn by time, cracked in places, broken in others, its colours dimmed from solar radiation. Moss and weeds grew in the cracks, and Obi-Wan could see that efforts were being made to restore it. The closer they got to the temple's towering spires, the neater the path became.

Wild vegetation gave way to carefully trimmed bushes and grass on each side of the path. Birdsong revealed the native creatures, birds ranging from dull brown to deep red sang and warbled. Their long, sharp beaks perfect for hammering away at the thick bark of the forest trees. Soon, the voices of the birds were joined by spoken language, and Obi-Wan saw fields on each side of the temple occupied by young Jedi.

They stood in formation, practising kata. On one side the youngest of the Order trained, guided by several knights and masters walking the perimeter, correcting stances where they saw it was necessary. On the other side the older initiates and padawan's trained.

Obi-Wan didn't know what to make of it. There had to be a few hundred beings on each side. Was that all that was left of the Jedi Order's youngest members? He found he didn't want to know the answer, and hoped that more were hidden away in classes within the tower structure ahead.

No one paid the small procession any mind as they passed the training fields, and for that Obi-Wan was grateful. He didn't want anything to delay his greeting of the council He needed answers. After two years as a captive with no knowledge of what had become of his brothers and sisters he was almost desperate for answers—as unbecoming as it may be.

They entered the ancient spire through the cracked front doors. Obi-Wan saw where it had been mended. Signs of maintenance were everywhere; from new structural supports salvaged from starships, to repaired windows and freshly painted walls. The Jedi clearly were doing what they could to restore the temple to its former serene glory.

Druvo Doxor led them through deserted halls and up a spiral staircase. At the top a tall set of doors stood closed. "Please wait here," the knight asked them before he approached the door. He slipped inside the room and was gone barely a minute when he re-emerged from the chambers. "You may enter, Master Kenobi," he said.

Obi-Wan turned to Bail, and said, "You and Artoo wait here, please. I will be back as soon as I understand what's going on here."

"Very well," Bail said, a half sigh escaping him.

Obi-Wan entered the chamber at a sedate pace, forcing himself to remain calm and in control. The door shut behind him, and he walked through a small ante chamber that opened up into a wide, circular room. It was much bigger than the council chambers on Coruscant, the chairs spaced further apart. Everything felt colder, and Obi-Wan wasn't sure if he was merely imagining it, or if the Jedi seated in the room truly lacked the same warmth he'd always associated with them.

Every head in the room was turned towards him, yet all remained silent. Surprise showed in some of their faces, suspicion in others. The only faces completely unreadable belonged to Mace Windu, Yoda, Ki-Adi-Mundi, and Adi Gallia.

"I'm glad to see you're all well," Obi-Wan said.

"How did you find your way here?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked, his voice pitched to indicate his disbelief.

"I was guided by the Force, as you were," Obi-Wan said with a dismissive wave of a hand. He did not want to get stuck on irrelevant topics.

"You survived," Mace said. He leaned forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees and fingers steepled.

"As I'm certain many others have," Obi-Wan said. He did not like how subdued everyone in the room was. The atmosphere in the council chambers had always been one of calm mystery, but to feel the Force roll off the masters before him in waves of _resignation_ set Obi-Wan's nerves on edge. "This is not what I expected to find," he said, brows pulled together in concern.

"To what are you referring?" Adi Gallia asked. Her melodic voice was as strong as ever, but her eyes held a weariness foreign to Obi-Wan's remembrance of her.

" _This_ ," Obi-Wan made a sweeping gesture with his arm. His voice turned stern when he began to elaborate, "I escaped the Temple assault by a hair's breadth, only to be drugged and sold to Zygerian slavers while I was unconscious from blood loss. I spent eighteen months in a dark cell under Force suppressors , to then be sold to a man who would kill a slave simply to prove a point. And not to put too fine a point on it, but never once did I think I'd find the Order in a state of such fatalist acceptance."

"Careful, Kenobi," Mace said. "You're treading awfully close to disrespect."

"You do not refute it?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Complicated the situation is," Yoda said, finally deciding to make his ancient voice heard. "Think of the Jedi Order's future we must. If act rashly we do, only destruction do I foresee."

"And the solution is to completely isolate the Jedi from the galaxy?" Obi-Wan asked. He shook his head in disbelief. "My ship is being dismantled as we speak, younglings are being drilled in katas far advanced for their age, and all because this council is overcome with the fear of an uncertain future?"

"A military force controlled by a Sith lord attacked us, Obi-Wan," Mace said. "You were with me—no, _you_ made the discovery! A Sith at the head of the republic, and you expect the Jedi to go up against the political and military power he holds? We'd be slaughtered!"

"We _were_ slaughtered," Obi-Wan said, eyes fierce. "There are still Jedi scattered across the galaxy. Jedi who weren't on Coruscant, and they have no idea where the main body of the Order now lies. How many Jedi are here on Tython?"

"Just under three thousand," Ki-Adi-Mundi sighed.

Obi-Wan shook his head and forced down his emotion. He was becoming frustrated and angry, and he needed to reign himself in. He needed to be calm. A few deep breaths later he trusted himself enough to speak once more. "We cannot hide ourselves away while the galaxy tears itself apart," he said. "Have you received any news about the war whatsoever?"

"No," Mace admitted with some reluctance. "It's as you say. . . We have isolated ourselves."

The honest admittance caught Obi-Wan off guard. He stood still, staring straight ahead. Then, on a slow exhale he crouched down, resting his elbows on his thighs and balancing on the balls of his feet. Two hands came up to his face to rub his tired eyes.

"Master Kenobi?" Adi Gallia gently enquired.

"Forgive me, masters," Obi-Wan said once he dropped his hands from his face. He stayed crouched, eyes on the floor. "I have struggled as of late, and I'd hoped—" He cut his sentence short, not truly knowing where he'd wanted to go with those words.

"These are trying times," Saesee Tiin said quietly, his deep voice a rumbling echo through the chamber.

"We are peacekeepers," Obi-Wan said. "And there is a galaxy at war. If we remain in isolation the galaxy will tear itself apart and we will eventually die off as well. The Jedi Order cannot survive without adapting to the circumstances."

"We are adapting as best we can," Ki-Adi-Mundi said. "Though the council struggles to come to an agreement on what the best direction for the Order is. We've been on Tython more than two years now and still we are no closer to a resolution."

Obi-Wan frowned and looked up to meet the Cerean master's eyes. "Except the council seems to have agreed to train soldiers, based on what I saw outside. We have always been warriors, only. . ." he trailed off and pushed himself back to his feet. He felt slightly light-headed, and tried to remember the last time he'd eaten anything, before reeling in his wandering thoughts and giving the council his full attention once more.

"Ready all Jedi must be," Yoda said. His imperious stare did little to passify Obi-Wan's displeasure.

"We are seekers," Obi-Wan said, barely keeping the anger from his voice. "Not saints, and certainly not soldiers."

"You would suggest fighting the Sith without fighting?" Mace retorted. His eyes were hard as the stone foundations upon which the Tython Jedi Temple stood.

"If we forget who and what we are, what we are _meant_ to be, then the Jedi Order is lost regardless of victory or defeat," Obi-Wan said, unable to keep his physical and emotional fatigue out of his voice. He raised his eyes to the ceiling and noted the time-worn painting on its surface. It depicted figures robed in white seated in meditation, some holding ancient scrolls and tomes, passing them on, while others held crystals and drew from it bright light, and more figures still flowing through elegant katas. The imagery was mirrored on the other side, but where light was on one side, on the other side darkness took its place. The two met in the centre, blending together with a harmonious meeting of two halves of the same moon.

Obi-Wan swallowed past the lump in his throat and lowered his eyes to meet the gazes of the masters seated around the chamber. He then dropped his sight to the floor, and said, "Maybe we've already forgotten. Maybe we forgot long ago."

"You're clearly exhausted from the journey here," Ki-Adi-Mundi said. "Perhaps you ought to rest."

"The council needs to hear what's been going on in the galaxy," Obi-Wan said. "But I suppose Bail is better suited to that duty."

"Bail?" Mace asked.

"Bail Organa," Obi-Wan said.

"The Senator from Alderaan?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked, the pitch of his voice once more showcasing his surprise.

"Former senator," Obi-Wan gave a half-shrug. "Now he's just a prince. I thought it unsafe for him to come with me, but he was quite insistent. And since he gave me a ship. . . well, you see my dilemma. Or rather, now that I think about it, this is rather convenient. He'll give you the lay of the land and I'll go get some fresh air."

Obi-Wan cut his rambling short and didn't wait for further response from the council. He turned on his heel and left the way he'd entered. He picked up quiet murmuring from the council, and felt Yoda's Force presence gently probe his own. He gently turned the grandmaster's attentions away, unwilling to allow the scrutiny just then.

Bail was seated on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. It appeared as though he'd been having a conversation with Knight Doxor, which he cut short as soon as he saw Obi-Wan. He scrambled to his feet and asked, "And?"

"And now you get to go in there and tell the council all about the galaxy's woes," Obi-Wan said.

"You didn't. . . ?" Bail trailed off, leaving the question unfinished. The Jedi Master wasn't even looking at him. "Are you all right, Obi-Wan?"

"Hm?" Obi-Wan snapped his eyes to meet Bail's. "Fine, yes. Of course. They're waiting."

Bail turned and started walking towards the door. He stopped when he noticed that Obi-Wan hadn't moved. "You're not coming with me?" He asked.

"I very much doubt you need your hand held by the likes of me," Obi-Wan said. "Besides, you're far more knowledgeable about this galactic war than I am. I'll come find you later. Artoo, stay with Bail."

"I'll give Prince Organa a tour and arrange sleeping quarters for him once his business with the council is concluded," Druvo Doxor said.

"Very good," Obi-Wan said without making eye-contact with the Zabrak Jedi. He set off down the spiral staircase and left. Something had been pressing in on him since they first landed on Tython. He didn't know if it was simply his own anxiety catching up to him, or if there was a presence trying to draw his attention. He could feel it growing, but couldn't identify it. The longer he focused on it the greater the feeling became, and soon it felt like a pressure building behind his eyes. It wasn't painful, but it instilled in him a sense of urgency.

Obi-Wan walked back out into the sunlight, and stared up at the sky where two moons hung. One light, and one dark. He knew then that he stood in the place where twenty-five millennia ago it had all begun.

Jedi and Sith.

* * *

"You must think me incompetent," Anakin said. He stood on one end of a wide, circular room. Two doorways stood on opposite sides, each leading out to a walkway suspended kilometres off the ground and connecting to tall buildings on the opposite side. A common sight on Denon. It was an ecumenopolis similar to Coruscant, its high population an ideal environment for two Force-sensitive beings to blend in and meet in secret.

"Dull, yes, but certainly not incompetent," said Count Dooku. His aristocratic voice echoed throughout the room. He stood at the opposite door, looking far too calm for Anakin's liking.

"You wanted this meeting," Anakin said. "Get to the point before I change my mind and cut you down for what you did to me."

Dooku laughed. It was brief, but brought the point across better than any words could have. He didn't fear Anakin Skywalker. "Your bravado is unnecessary. We are on the same side, young Skywalker."

"How do you figure that?" Anakin spat. "You. . . corrupted me. Tortured me. Why should I listen to anything you have to say?"

"Corrupted you?" Dooku said. "No, dear boy. I was merely trying to educate you in the ways of the Force. The Jedi are so narrow-minded."

"And in what way are the Sith any better?"

Dooku was silent for a time, his eyes boring into Anakin. "The Sith aren't," he simply said.

"What do you mean?" Anakin frowned.

"Let's just say. . . Your master made me realise something," Dooku said, flexing his robotic hand. "And once I'd overcome my own inadequacies I set out to hinder Palpatine's plot. He had a grand plan. A plan I am certain I wasn't entirely privy to, but it involved a galactic war to demoralise the Republic, turn popular opinion against the Jedi, to ultimately destroy them."

"Then why did he send his army to attack them so suddenly?"

"Because he grew desperate," Dooku said. "I was at the head of the entirety of the CIS, and suddenly he no longer had my loyalty. Which meant, of course, that the CIS and their vast droid armies were no longer within his control."

"Why would that matter?" Anakin said. "He could just assassinate you and place someone else in charge. Someone else he could manipulate."

"Oh he certainly tried," Dooku said. "I've been very careful. Why do you think I stayed out of the public eye for so long? I was strengthening my hold over the CIS while simultaneously disappearing from Darth Sidious' radar. It was by no means easy, but that much I managed to do. And it was enough to force his hand. He has become careless, overconfident, and the moment to take advantage of that will be upon us soon."

"You want my help."

"Yours, and the Alliance's," Dooku said.

"I'm not with the Alliance," Anakin said.

"But your _wife_ is," Dooku said, a knowing smile pulling at his lips. "Think about it, Skywalker. You could be the hero of the galaxy. The hero to bring an end to the war."

Anakin didn't know what he was supposed to do. The Force was silent, as it had been since that day his lightsaber tore through the flesh of Tusken children.

* * *

Obi-Wan walked the perimeter of the temple. He'd passed by many Jedi since he started his aimless exploration, but few seemed bothered by him. Their curious eyes passed over the modern leathers and cloth he wore, but beyond that no one seemed to question his presence or his intentions, as though word had already spread of his arrival.

He didn't doubt that it had. News had always spread quickly through the Order.

A wide outdoor staircase, carved from the sturdy bedrock, lead down the steep hill in measured increments. Obi-Wan was surprised to see fresh cracks on its surface. Cracks that had not yet had time to smooth over through time's erosion. They were out of place, and he would have studied them further, but he felt a handful familiar presences approaching from behind. He turned and saw the relieved face of Siri Tachi. Ahead of her a small dark-haired child ran down the steps, heedless of the danger the steep, sloping stone presented.

It took Obi-Wan scarcely a moment to recognise her. Little Talsi Yutal. The youngling he'd first met four years previous in the Halls of Healing, then again two years later, scant weeks before the assault on the Temple, when she'd been playing hide and seek in the arboretum with the other younglings. Here she was again, her little brow pulled into an emotional frown, tears already streaming down her face.

Obi-Wan felt a little tug within the Force, and wondered why he was so important to this girl.

He braced himself and prepared to catch her even before her feet left the ground. She jumped down the last six steps between them and Obi-Wan caught her securely in his arms, her momentum forcing him to spin half a circle to offset the shift in their combined centre of gravity.

Her voice squeaked as she tried to stifle her sniffles against his shoulder.

"It's all right, little one," Obi-Wan said gently. "It's all right."

"You didn't come with us," she cried. "And then I couldn't see you anymore."

Obi-Wan knew Talsi was prone to prescient visions. In hindsight it was clear that Talsi had seen the clone army in a vision when she was only four years old, when she'd innocently asked him a bewildering question with seemingly no context; _Why do they all look the same?_

He turned when he heard Siri's steps come to a stop. Her expression was neutral, but her eyes shone with carefully controlled emotion.

Talsi wriggled in his grasp, and he allowed her to slide down to stand on her own two feet again. She leaned her head into his side, seeking comfort still as she gripped his shirt with one hand, the other wiping her face as she calmed herself.

Siri stepped closer, her left hand lifting to rest against his right cheek where the scar cut across his skin. She stared at it for a long moment, then met his eyes and said, "I didn't dare hope. So many were lost, and. . ."

Obi-Wan brought his own hand up to rest against hers, then clasped his fingers around hers and pulled their hands away from his face. He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, trying to think of what to say.

"It was difficult," he said. He didn't know what he was referring to. Whether it was the battle itself, surviving the Zygerians, then Tarrek and the revelations on Stewjon. Seeing what had become of the galaxy. Seeing Anakin, how he'd changed, the cynic he'd become.

Losing grip of himself.

"It still is difficult," Obi-Wan said. "But it will get better."

He gave Siri a smile and squeezed little Talsi against his side. It was a joy to simply stand with them. He embraced the feeling, allowing it to fill him, but he didn't hold it in. Obi-Wan allowed it to flow through him and was left with a feeling of peace. A feeling he hadn't experienced in a long time. It nearly brought him to tears.

The wind picked up, a gust blowing against them so strongly that little Talsi gasped and sprang up a pair of steps. Fear shone in her eyes, and Obi-Wan looked at her with confusion.

"Talsi?" He asked.

"Inside!" She said. "We have to go inside, masters! Right now!"

"Another storm?" Siri asked, voice calm, face serious.

"Yes," Talsi shouted, already running up the steps. "I'll go tell the guards!"

"What is it?" Obi-Wan asked as he turned to stare out over the plains. There wasn't a cloud in sight, but the winds were clearly picking up and something felt. . . off.

"The storms," Siri said. "Talsi senses them before they hit. She's one of three Jedi here able to sense them coming. Come on."

Obi-Wan ran up the stairs behind Siri, questions still racing through his mind, but none more important than, " _What_ storms?"

"Force storms!" Siri had to yell as a howling wind nearly knocked them off their feet. Obi-Wan had to grab onto a broken stone pillar to keep himself grounded, for a moment wondering if the wind would simply pick him up. It relented a moment later, and the two Jedi wasted no time in sprinting up the rest of the steps and along the flats leading to the Temple entrance.

Ahead of them most of the Jedi were already disappearing into the enormous structure. Obi-Wan glanced back mid-stride and with bewilderment watched as darkest clouds began appearing seemingly out of nowhere. Blue lightning crackling along its surface like a living snake coiling, ready to strike.

They were the last two to make it inside, the doors slamming shut behind them.

It was eerily silent within the Temple, as though everyone was waiting for the hammer to fall.

Obi-Wan didn't understand what was happening. He leaped up to the second level balcony to stare out a window that looked like it had been recently restored. He saw the lightning crack down to the earth, shattering stone and forking along the path, kicking up gravel.

He would have called the spectacle unnatural, but that was merely his own ignorance, and he realised with startling clarity that this storm _was_ _natural_ and he could _feel_ it the way he could feel his fellow Jedi huddling in the Temple.

The storm had a presence. A living presence.

A cold, twisted presence.


	12. Chapter 12

Posted 26/2/2019

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

12.

They'd all been herded into a large underground hall. Great pillars supported the high ceiling, the structure sound, even as dust trickled down from above as the storm continued to slam against the outer shell. The artificial light was bright enough to illuminate the entire space, and Obi-Wan could see the rows of tables that had been set up in the back half of the hall. Enormous doorways on each side led to smaller halls where what looked like cooking stations stood.

The gathered Jedi spoke in quiet, calm murmurs as they each found a spot to sit or stand to wait out the storm.

A chill crept up Obi-Wan's spine, causing him to shiver involuntarily the same moment a muffled crack reverberated through the stone. The storm was hitting the ancient temple hard.

"Are you all right?" Siri asked him.

"Fine," Obi-Wan said. He surveyed the scene before him, trying to spot familiar faces in the Jedi crowd, but he quickly gave up his aimless search to follow Siri into one of the smaller halls.

Children ranging from initiate to senior padawan age stood in a line, peeling vegetables and cutting them as instructed. Three cooks that Obi-Wan recognised as non-Jedi service workers prepared the meat. They spoke to each other with familiarity as they worked, occasionally dishing out orders to the young Jedi. Obi-Wan sensed acceptance from the cooks, but he couldn't help but wonder if they had families back on Coruscant that they'd been forced to leave behind at the Jedi Temple's sudden evacuation during the assault.

He followed Siri to the corner, where a small empty table stood with four seemingly fragile chairs around it. Siri quickly took a seat, gesturing for Obi-Wan to do the same. He did as instructed and turned his attention to the diligently working youngsters. Occasionally one of them would glance up and give him a curious look, or a smile, but they kept quietly talking among themselves as they worked.

"Do you have special kitchen privileges or something?" Obi-Wan grinned, unable to prevent the ludicrous image of a domestic Siri from popping into his head.

Siri scoffed. "Something like that," she said as she swiped loose strands of hair out of her face. "Ferus is responsible for scheduling kitchen duty. I thought he'd be here."

"He's all right then?" Obi-Wan asked, and at Siri's nod of affirmation he said, "I'm glad to hear it."

"In fact," Siri said. "He was knighted a few months after we arrived on Tython."

That gave Obi-Wan pause. He wanted to congratulate her on her padawan's knighting, but the timing seemed stressed. His own knighting had been sudden, and Obi-Wan wondered if Ferus had truly been ready, or if he'd been elevated because ranks needed to be filled after the many deaths.

"The trials gave him little trouble then?" Obi-Wan asked.

"No Jedi has _little_ trouble with the trials of knighthood, but he passed them all," Siri said softly. "Sometimes I think it happened too soon, but he changed after Coruscant. We all did, in some way. But where some broke, Ferus was forged stronger. I'm proud of him."

"He'll do well," Obi-Wan said, and he meant it.

Siri looked like she wanted to say something in response, but Obi-Wan watched her eyes shift as something behind him caught her attention. He turned and saw Bail Organa and R2-D2 head in their direction, lead by Knight Doxor. Bail looked uncomfortable, a frown etched into his brow-line.

Obi-Wan waved them over and Bail was quick to join them, a great sigh escaping him as he lowered himself onto a chair. Doxor said a few polite words, and then left the way he'd come. R2-D2 rolled up to the wall beside the table and stood still, his dome spinning slowly as he surveyed the area.

"You look frustrated, Bail," Obi-Wan said.

"Yes, well," Bail said, tugging at his collar. "Your Jedi council listened intently, but I'm not so sure they grasp the urgency of the situation. They couldn't give me a straight answer, citing that they would follow the will of the Force. I didn't want to be impolite, so I didn't say it, but to me it sounds like an excuse to sit on their hands."

"The Jedi Order is based in surrendering to the Force, Bail," Obi-Wan said.

"Yes, you all have a lot of faith in the Force," Bail shifted in his seat. "But for people like me it's an incomprehensible fairy tale. I cannot rely on some mystic power to intervene on my behalf. I have to _act_."

"The Force doesn't intervene in the way you think," Obi-Wan leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "It guides us, envelops us, but it's not a guard dog that will jump to our defence at the first sign of trouble. The Jedi direct the flow of the Force to aid us, but it's not an absolute power."

"Then how do you explain what you did when we escaped from Obroa-Skai?" Bail asked. "That was the closest thing to absolute power I have ever witnessed."

Obi-Wan leaned back in his chair, squeezed his knees with strained hands, and took a deep breath. He still had no memory of that event.

"What are you talking about?" Siri asked.

"Obi-Wan deflected a star destroyer's turbolasers with nothing but his mind," Bail said. "I could _see_ the Force surrounding him. I'll never forget that sight. . . that feeling."

"Bail, I don't remember that," Obi-Wan said. "If that is what happened, then what you witnessed is an example of a Jedi completely surrendering to the Force."

"What does that even mean?" Bail asked.

"The Force is. . . A mystery," Obi-Wan said, attempting to explain in a way that would make sense to Bail. "We Jedi spend our lives studying the Force in an attempt to gain better understanding. But at the end of the day, we are as ignorant of the will of the Force as any being who lacks an understanding of gravity. Such a being might describe the flow of a river as the will of the water. The fundamental reason remains a mystery to them. And like that, the will of the Force remains a mystery to Jedi. We can only surrender to it, open ourselves to its flow, and through a lifetime of training we learn to recognise the subtle signs that lead us to greater understanding.

"The council is not being purposefully difficult, Bail," Obi-Wan sighed. "They are seeking greater understanding so they can make educated decisions. The problem is that the dark side of the Force is like a blockage slowing the flow of a river, especially in recent years. Even here."

"Here?" Bail asked.

"The storm," Obi-Wan said. "It's not a simple atmospheric pressure system. I can sense its presence the way I can sense a living being. There is suffering in that storm."

"You can sense the storm?" Siri asked, brows coming together in a frown.

"You mean you don't?" Obi-Wan asked, confused. He felt it clear as day, as though someone had planted a sign-post right in front of him.

"No," Siri said. "Not even master Yoda can sense the storms."

"But little Talsi senses it," Obi-Wan said. "And you implied there were two others who can as well."

"Yes," Siri said, her eyes focussed intently upon Obi-Wan's face. "But they sense the danger it presents. None of them, as far as I know, have described it as an identifiable presence."

"Surely I can't be the only one?" Obi-Wan said, and when Siri didn't answer he frowned and said with incredulity, "I can feel the path it's cutting. From the valley side of the Temple heading to the west and deep into the mountains where it's strongest. It's like a giant beacon. Siri, do you really not sense it?"

"No, Obi-Wan," she said. "I think you need to speak with master Yoda."

All Obi-Wan could do was lean back in his seat and stare at the opposite wall with his mouth slightly agape and his brows pulled into a frown. How was it possible that he could feel every shift of the storm when not even the grandmaster of the Order could?

It made no sense.

* * *

Late into the night the storm finally subsided. Obi-Wan and Siri were still seated in the kitchen, but the cooks and working young Jedi had long since departed. Meals had been served and dishes had been cleaned, and the Jedi had turned in for the night or found peace and seclusion in meditative exercises. Bail Organa had also put his worries to rest for the day and was likely sound asleep as well.

"He should have been here hours ago," Siri said. The only sign that she was concerned at all lay in the way she ran her finger over the smooth grain patterns of the wooden table.

Obi-Wan wanted to tell her that Ferus was fine, but he didn't know Tython's environment at all. He didn't know what lay beyond the walls of the ancient temple. He didn't know what creatures lurked in the forest. And if Ferus had gotten caught outside in the storm there was no telling where he was and in what condition. But Siri didn't need to hear this, Obi-Wan knew. She was already aware of the possibilities.

"You trained him well," Obi-Wan said. "We must trust in that and have patience."

"You don't need to lecture me, Obi-Wan," she snapped.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I only meant. . ."

Siri sighed.

"I shouldn't have snapped at you," she said. "Forgive me."

Obi-Wan nodded, but otherwise remained silent. Everyone was on edge, and he could hardly blame them. Dramatic changes tended to have that effect on people, especially if they were used to things working a certain way. The Jedi had gone from living and learning in a secure temple integrated with all the conveniences modern technology provided, to a rundown, weather-beaten, time-eroded temple that held only as many systems of convenience as the Jedi had been able to restore thus far. But that wasn't the crux of it. Jedi were trained to survive with nothing but the Force to aid them, after all. No, it was these unusual storms. . .

"Do you want to go look for him?" Obi-Wan asked.

Siri said nothing for a long moment, the candle-light causing the shadows on her face to flicker.

Obi-Wan studied the candle. It was a stark reminder that even old knowledge had its uses. No doubt the kitchen staff had been told to render the uxibeast fat from the meat stores into tallow for candle wax so generated power could be rationed.

 _When you light a candle it casts a shadow,_ the unbidden thought—observation—presented a riddle for Obi-Wan's tired mind, but he pushed the thought aside.

"Yes," Siri sighed. "I'm sure he's fine, but let's see if we can find him."

Outside it was dark as pitch, but the skies soon lit up with crackling flashes that illuminated the terrain for mere seconds before plunging everything back into darkness. The accompanying sounds were delayed by many seconds, and Obi-Wan breathed a little easier knowing that the powerful natural discharges were far away.

Siri led them down the main pathway, its weather-beaten stones overgrown with moss near the far edge. They stepped off the path, guided by the brief flashes, and ventured out into the woodlands.

"If Ferus is out here he'll likely be in this direction," Siri said.

In another brilliant flash of lightning Obi-Wan noted the mountains. The place where the eye of the Force storm had been earlier lay straight ahead, and with the storm's passing he no longer sensed an immense oppressive aura, rather, a diminished light. A beacon to which he felt inexplicably drawn.

"What's out there?" Obi-Wan asked, pointing in the direction he felt the presence, despite knowing that Siri wasn't even facing him.

"Uxibeast herds," she said. He wasn't entirely surprised when she assumed he was speaking in general terms. "Predators, herbs, wilderness and everything that accompanies it. We don't venture far. Not much has been explored."

"Why not?" Obi-Wan asked, confused that a migration of Jedi wouldn't identify the ins and outs of their new home.

"We experienced our first Force storm mere hours after we landed here," Siri said. "We weren't prepared for it, and twenty-one Jedi lost their lives. The council decided it best to limit our ranging to only as far as needed to gather food. At least until we understand our environment better."

"What about scouting with one of the starfighters?" Obi-Wan had seen the small, agile starships sitting outside, none the worse for wear. He wondered if Garen had piloted one of them to Tython.

"We have no means to replenish fuel," Siri said. "No one flies. Not while the council is still debating. Patience has become a mantra."

An ironic little grin settled onto Obi-Wan's face, and he almost laughed as he said, "You never were one for the patient life."

"I won't deny it," Siri scoffed. "But they've been debating for literal years, Obi-Wan. It's not surprising that some of the younger Jedi have gotten curious and ventured away from the explored regions to see what's out there."

"I didn't think Ferus was the type," Obi-Wan said.

"He's not," Siri said, raising her voice to be heard over the howling wind. "But his padawan is!"

"Padawan?" Obi-Wan's eyebrows shot up. Ferus was only twenty-three years old.

Sudden movement in the distance prompted both Jedi to crouch low behind an outcropping of rock. They kept quiet as they observed the space, and it wasn't long before the silhouettes of two figures became identifiable. But it was their voices, more than their physical existence that caused Siri to breath a sigh of relief.

". . . Reckless," a masculine voice said. Obi-Wan instantly recognised the cadence of Ferus Olin.

"I know, I'm sorry, master," a young feminine voice said. "But I _heard_ it."

"That is not the point, padawan," Ferus said. "You did not consult me before running off."

"You would have said no!"

There was a slight pause before Ferus spoke again. "I doubt I need to explain the problem with that statement to you. Or am I mistaken?"

Another pause, before a slightly sulky tone arose from the padawan. "I _should_ have come to you first master. Out of respect, but I really thought it would get away if I didn't follow it immediately."

"It _did_ get away," Ferus said, and Obi-Wan thought the young man was doing a remarkable job keeping the frustration out of his voice.

"Only because of the storm!" The padawan said.

Obi-Wan gave Siri an amused look. She simply shook her head.

"He's got his hands full with that one," Obi-Wan whispered.

"You have no idea," Siri said as she stood and moved to intercept the younger Jedi. As she stepped around the outcropping she raised her voice and said, "What were you chasing this time?"

"Master Siri!" The girl exclaimed before running towards them. Obi-Wan thought it rather remarkable how the dark proved little hindrance for her, but when the lightning flashed again he lost his surprise. The girl was a Togruta, and Togruta had inborn senses far superior to that of humans.

"She was chasing another phantom," Ferus said as he drew level with them. Obi-Wan moved out of the shadows then, which caused Ferus to do an almost comical double-take. "Master Kenobi. . ."

"Hello Ferus," Obi-Wan said.

"You're. . . How? We thought you were. . ."

"Wow, master, I've never seen you tongue-tied before," the Togruta girl said. She turned to Obi-Wan and gave a very respectful bow, then said, "Hello, Master Kenobi. I've heard a lot about you. Mostly because my master won't shut up about you, and I bet you have tons of great stories to tell. I'm Ahsoka Tano and I'm very pleased to finally meet you."

Obi-Wan didn't know if it would be appropriate to openly display his amusement when Ferus looked ready to fall over from shock. Whether it was from his padawan's casual manner, or because of Obi-Wan's sudden appearance, he could not say. Not that it mattered, as Siri decided to step in.

"Ahsoka, you know better than to go running off by yourself," she said. "Especially towards flesh raider territories."

The girl finally deflated.

"Yes, master," she said. "I'll head straight to the temple."

"See that you do," Siri said, tone slightly more forgiving. "We'll be close behind you."

The girl nodded and walked away into the dark. Before the shadows swallowed her whole Obi-Wan called out to her. "Ahsoka," he said, then waited for her to turn towards him. When she did, her eyes shining like a predator's in the night, he said, "I do have quite a few stories to tell, and I bet you have some of your own. How about we trade tales tomorrow, over some light sparring?"

The girl's posture straightened into rigid excitement. "I wouldn't miss it, master!" She said before turning back around and continuing on her way towards the temple.

The three older Jedi began moving as well, and it took barely a few seconds for Ferus to break the silence. "I'm not ready for a padawan," he sighed.

"You did end up with a spirited one," Obi-Wan said, and the smile could be heard in the tone of his voice. "From experience I can tell you that it's not easy, but the partnership ends up being its own reward. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"I'll have to draw on your confidence then, master," Ferus said. "I have little of my own at the moment."

Obi-Wan clapped him on the shoulder. "You have to believe you can train her," Obi-Wan said gently. "She will sense your hesitation. She _does_ sense it. You are a great Jedi, Ferus. Trust in that and the rest will come on its own."

"I'm glad to have the benefit of your wisdom once more, master," Ferus said. "How did you find your way to us? How did you survive the assault? We were told you were with the vanguard when the last ship left."

"It is quite a long story," Obi-Wan said. "And I've told it many times today. I'll regale you with it another time. For now. . . What are flesh raiders?"

"As far as we can tell they're a species of hostile natives," Siri said. "They are primitive and uncommonly violent. We've seen them cannibalise their own. As such we steer clear of the hills to the south-west, and they haven't ventured closer. Not yet at least, but in our first weeks here we did learn that the sight of a lightsaber sends them into a frenzy."

"I see," Obi-Wan said. "Perhaps they have tribal stories of encounters with the Jedi of old."

"Most likely," Siri said. "Master Windu is concerned that they will grow bold one of these days, and venture to the temple."

"As the Force wills it," Obi-Wan sighed. The moment he said those words it felt as though a horde of butterflies had been set loose between his ribs. He stopped in his tracks and glanced towards the western mountains. That beacon was still there, that presence, whatever it was.

"Master Kenobi?" Ferus said.

"It's nothing," Obi-Wan said. It was dark, he couldn't simply run off to investigate. He wanted to. He was almost desperate to. But better sense had to win out. He did his best to push the pulsing feeling aside, and turned away.

That beckoning presence stayed with him all the way to the temple.

* * *

Morning brought a calm breeze through the valleys and hills surrounding the Jedi Temple. It was almost dream-like, the way the birds sang and little wisps of clouds travelled across the blue sky. It was peaceful, and yet, Obi-Wan felt far too tired to fully appreciate the calm after the storm.

He'd had a restless night.

Sleep had come to him in short bursts. He'd drift off only to snap alert with that odd feeling in his chest. Eventually he'd given up on trying to sleep, turning to meditation instead. But that had proven to be just as disturbed as attempting to sleep had been. He'd given up on getting any rest whatsoever when the first rays of sunlight crested over the eastern horizon. He'd made his way outside and simply watched the sunrise, watched as the last of the night's stars disappeared in the great luminosity of the Tython system's sun.

And still he felt the pull towards the western mountains.

Obi-Wan drew his borrowed cloak tighter around his shoulders. It was rather lucky that he and Ferus were of similar height and build. The young man had given him his spare set of tunics and robes, and for the first time in well over two years, Obi-Wan felt like a Jedi again.

An exhausted Jedi, but a Jedi nonetheless.

"Restless your sleep was," the scratchy voice of Master Yoda said, his gimer stick tapping rhythmically on the stone as he approached Obi-Wan. "Sense your anxiety I do."

"Yes, master," Obi-Wan said. There was little point in denying it. He palmed the kaiburr crystal he'd placed near his heart, where, as a padawan, the riverstone Qui-Gon had given him once resided.

"Hm," Yoda grunted, coming to a stop beside Obi-Wan. "Different you are, from the man I remember."

"Yes," Obi-Wan knew the old Jedi was right. "I'm weary, tired."

"Difficulty you have, in finding rest," Yoda said, nodding sagely. "Sense I do how the Force surrounds you. Different from before it is."

"I think it's trying to tell me something, master Yoda," Obi-Wan said. He finally turned his face towards the diminutive Jedi and knelt down on one knee. "Or lead me somewhere."

"Hm," Yoda grunted again. "Lead you here it did. Lead all Jedi here the Force has, but blind and deaf to its call most of us are. More clearly than any Jedi do you sense Tython's currents. Follow them you must. Perhaps then will you find rest once more."

Obi-Wan sighed. His chest tightened and he could feel the stirrings of emotion heat up his eyes. He closed them, willing the moisture away. When he opened them again the sky had changed and master Yoda was no longer next to him. He sprang to his feet and glanced around in confusion. Jedi were everywhere, coming and going. Their movements filled with urgency, lightsabers in their hands. There were shuttles and starships in the sky, and he realised that he recognised none of the designs.

A starship exploded in a brilliant starburst, its remains spinning wildly as it veered towards the ground and crashed with a mighty screech of metal and a wail in the Force as several beings lost their mortal lives. Obi-Wan's lungs seized.

What was happening?

Beyond the path the wreckage had carved Obi-Wan noticed the chaos of a terrible battle. Something hit him roughly in the shoulder. He spun and stared wide-eyed at the Jedi who had shoved him. He was human, brown eyes, golden hair and beard, scowling fiercely as he ignited a brilliant emerald blade.

"Don't just stand there!" The man yelled before storming down the path, away from the wreckage and towards the edge of the forest.

Obi-Wan's feet wouldn't move. This was wrong. It was all wrong.

He watched the golden-haired Jedi run to meet a wave of beings emerging from the forest's edge. They swung red lightsabers.

Nearly frantic now Obi-Wan turned in a circle, taking in the chaos, the explosions, the clashes of lightsabers, the stench of burnt ozone and other things he'd rather not give name to. He was there, somehow. . . somehow. . . the man had _spoken_ to him.

 _What is happening?_

A roar in Obi-Wan's ears nearly brought him to his knees, but he pushed through the confusion and panic in time to duck below a red blade aimed at his neck. The battle was upon him now.

He called his lightsaber to his hand on pure instinct alone and blocked the next strike expertly. Obi-Wan still didn't understand what was happening, but he could feel the people around him, he could feel the hatred of the man trying to cut him to pieces, could see, _feel_ , beings die around him. And they obviously saw him. He was part of this battle, and the _how_ and the _why_ mattered not.

First he needed to survive, and then he'd figure out the rest.

The Sith came at him again, relentless. Fully aware of how little he had left in reserve Obi-Wan spared little thought to preserving the life of the man attempting to gut him like a fish. He side-stepped an aggressive downward strike and brought his own blade down upon the back of the man's neck.

A red-skinned humanoid with equally red eyes charged him next. They locked blades and within three more moves Obi-Wan cut her down too.

Three more red-blade wielders targeted him then, and Obi-Wan was hard-pressed to dodge and parry all their strikes. From his peripheral he noticed a hooded Jedi move towards him. He could sense the being's concern, their determination, and moments later it was two blue blades against three red.

It didn't last. The man that had rushed to his aid was cut savagely from shoulder to hip. He was dead before he hit the ground, and Obi-Wan had no time to even consider the other deaths occurring around him. He fought on, cut down another Sith, and felt it in the Force as more lives vanished around him.

Jedi and Sith alike slaughtered each other, and for a brief moment Obi-Wan wondered why he was taking part in this seemingly endless battle. Why was he there. _How_ was he there? How-how-how-how- _how?_

 _Why?_

Obi-Wan ducked, parried, jumped, Force-pushed, struck, killed. An endless cycle. A battle so fierce and he could scarcely believe the scale of it as he fought on. Jedi fell, Sith fell, and the numbers were thinning on both sides. Then he was surrounded by four Sith warriors, and this time no one would come to his aid.

He was alone on that paved walkway leading to the temple.

Fires burned where ships had crashed. Corpses lay scattered, some in pieces. Obi-Wan didn't dare keep track of how many he had killed. He prayed for it to be a dream, an elaborate vision brought on by his fatigue.

It felt so real.

The four Sith spread around him, flanking him. They would kill him.

They would kill him and Obi-Wan didn't know what would happen when they did.

He called a fallen Jedi's lightsaber to his left hand and ignited the brilliant blue blade. At least with two blades he might stand a better chance of blocking all blows.

Two Sith charged, one from the front, one from behind. Obi-Wan leaped into the air, his body spinning in an elegant acrobatic move he'd practised countless times in his life. At the top of the arc he was facing the ground head first, and was directly above the Sith that had charged him from behind. His left blade struck the Sith's neck and severed the brain stem. He died instantly.

Obi-Wan finished the rotation and landed neatly on his feet. He fought on, blades clashing, the Sith snarling at him like rabid dogs.

A whistling sound reached Obi-Wan's ears and a warning in the Force told him to _move_. He turned his back to the Sith and took three running steps before leaping. The explosion's concussive force hit him mid-air and he was sent flying. Something wet and warm hit his face, and when he hit the ground he did so with the elegance of a newly born bantha calf.

The wind was knocked from his lungs, and he wanted nothing more than to just lay there until he'd caught his breath, but there was still so much malice surrounding him. He staggered to his feet and saw half a Sith near him. Blood gurgled through the man's lips. Even as he lay there dying the man was trying to sweep his lightsaber at the Jedi's feet, trying to at least inflict injury.

Obi-Wan stepped away and glanced around. The fighting was still ongoing, but fewer blades now lit the fields. Projectiles still whistled in the air. He brought the back of his hand to wipe something from his cheek, and his hand came away coated in blood. He knew it wasn't his own.

" _Tave qy kash nenx nuo tu tik. Tu'iea qo kash nenx tave tik qo._ "

Obi-Wan looked back down at the dying Sith. The man looked at him, not with cruelty, but with conviction and _acceptance_.

" _Tave qy kash nenx nuo tu tik. Tu'iea qo kash nenx tave tik qo,_ " the Sith said again, one last time before the life left his eyes.

The words held no meaning for Obi-Wan. He didn't understand. He didn't understand anything. He looked around again and wondered what could possibly have set off such a brutal battle.

 _How am I here?_

He was still on Tython, still where Master Yoda had stood next to him, but he did not sense Yoda. He sensed. . . He sensed. . .

Obi-Wan turned in time to block another deathblow from a red-blade wielder. This one was masked, and as Obi-Wan cut the man's life short the sky changed. The smoke vanished, replaced by the blue expanse and wispy clouds above. Broken and burnt earth and metal wreckage was replaced by green growth and weather-worn stone. The sun, previously at its zenith, suddenly hung midway between the eastern horizon and its peak.

Breathing hard Obi-Wan turned around to face the temple. Adult Jedi stood watch, lightsabers in their hands, but none ignited, watching him with incomprehension in their eyes.

Obi-Wan looked from face to face, breathing still strained, muscles still coiled to act. He saw Siri, her face concerned and bewildered. Ferus stood next to her, looking much the same. Master Yoda and Mace Windu stood apart from the rest, closer towards him, but both still held their distance and merely watched him with a sort of grim fascination.

The smell of blood and ozone still assaulted Obi-Wan's nose. He looked at his hands. He was still wielding two lightsabers, both still ignited. His tunics were stained, dirt and blood and things he'd rather not identify clung to the fabric.

Obi-Wan allowed the plasma of both blades to retreat. He stared at his left hand. The hilt was foreign, ancient, and had no reason to still be in his hand. His hands started shaking and his knees felt weak.

It had to have been a vision of the past.

"Obi-Wan?" Mace Windu asked, voice tentative, as one might approach a wild animal.

Obi-Wan glanced again at his hands and tunics and wondered. . . If it had been a vision, why was he covered in the remnants of gruesome battle?

"Are you all right?" Mace Windu asked, taking a hesitant step towards him.

Obi-Wan glanced around again. No corpses littered the ground. He swallowed and took a step back.

"I don't. . . I don't understand," Obi-Wan said.

He fell to his knees, and was vaguely aware that he was beginning to hyperventilate.

"I don't understand."

His shaking hands clung to the hilts of two lightsabers. His vision swam.

"Obi-Wan?"

"I don't. . . understand."

" _Obi-Wan!_ "


	13. Chapter 13

Long note at the end of the chapter that will hopefully clear up any confusion chapters 12 and 13 may have caused.

Posted 28/2/2019

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

13.

Senior healer Vokara Che had seen to a great many injuries and illnesses during her time of service within the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Everything from broken bones to severed limbs, the common cold to viral infections from far off worlds, and certainly she'd seen her fair share of cases of simple exhaustion.

This, however, she had never before encountered.

The moment Obi-Wan Kenobi collapsed in on himself, a boneless heap, she'd rushed forward despite Master Windu's reservations.

"Wait Vokara!" Mace said. "We don't know if this event has fully subsided!"

Vokara ignored him and kept running towards the unconscious human. "Yes well, you keep your distance, Master Windu," she said. "But I will not. Kenobi obviously needs immediate treatment."

"Obvious to you, perhaps," Mace said. "But I have thousands of Jedi to think about, and I don't like risking our most accomplished healer with this unknown phenomenon."

"Gone the phantoms are," Yoda said, and his quiet declaration seemed to settle the matter.

Vokara knelt next to Obi-Wan and gently began moving his limbs. He lay face-down on the stone walkway, his arms twisted at an uncomfortable angle, and with the efficiency of one with much practice Vokara straightened his limbs and manoeuvred him onto his back. She noticed a shadow fall over them, and spared a quick glance to see who had come to assist.

Siri Tachi crouched down on Obi-Wan's other side, while Mace Windu stood at Obi-Wan's feet with his arms crossed, a pensive frown marring his face.

"How bad is it?" Siri asked.

Vokara placed one hand on Obi-Wan's forehead and the other on his chest. She closed her eyes and began looking through the Force, searching for the minute disturbances brought on by physical and mental turmoil. She hissed at what she felt.

"This goes beyond mere fatigue," Vokara said. "With the state he's in I'm surprised he was even coherent before he collapsed. I need a history of his recent movements so I can determined if this has been coming on for a while, or if his condition is a snap reaction to what we all just witnessed."

"He arrived yesterday in the company of Bail Organa," Mace said. "I'll go find the man."

Vokara watched the Master of the Order's retreating back for a moment, and was relieved to see the Jedi who'd been alarmed by the enormous Force disturbance were beginning to disperse. Master Yoda stood still with his hands resting on his gimer stick, calmly watching the stillness of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"We need to get him cleaned up and situated," Vokara said.

Siri raised her eyes to Ferus Olin's worry-filled face. The knight stood a respectful distance away, but when his former master waved him forward he quickly made his way towards them.

Vokara manoeuvred Obi-Wan's limp form into a sitting position, and indicated for Siri and Ferus to each drape one of his arms over their shoulders. The healer then held his legs, and together the three Jedi carried the unconscious man inside the Temple.

Yoda walked towards the spot where Obi-Wan had fallen. Two lightsabers lay on the ground. One he recognised, and knew that it belonged to Obi-Wan. The second was an unknown artefact. With only the slightest of frowns Yoda called both hilts to his hand and tucked them beneath his arm. He slowly made his way towards the grove beside the Temple, a quiet place where he found communing with the Force to be clearer.

Like Obi-Wan Kenobi he did not yet understand what had transpired that morning. The Grandmaster set out to meditate in the hopes that the Force would provide answers.

* * *

Vokara and two other healers worked with gentle hands as they began removing Obi-Wan's tunics. It was when healer Nishaak began removing the inner tunic that he found the small stone.

"What's this?" Nishaak asked as he began removing the stone from the small pocket.

"What have you found?" Vokara asked.

"I think it's a Force crystal," Nishaak said as he finally drew his fingers around the small object.

As he pulled away Obi-Wan suddenly came to full awareness, his body jerking as his eyes snapped open wide. The man raised his head with some effort and appeared to be taking in the scene around him with half-focussed eyes. When his gaze fell on the stone in the healer's hands he brought a clumsy hand up and pulled the crystal away from the man.

"Sh'gave t'me," he slurred, closing his hand into a fist around the small crystal. Then, as quickly as he'd woken, Obi-Wan's head dropped back to the bed, instantly unconscious once more.

For a moment the healers simply stared at the prone form of the Jedi Master.

"Well, that was rather unusual," Vokara said as she quickly placed her hands over Obi-Wan's head and chest again. She breathed a silent sigh of relief when she found him to be no more damaged than before. "Let's continue."

"But Master Che," the second healer said. "What about the crystal?"

"I don't think it's causing him any harm, Sanrul," she said. "Leave it be and let's get him cleaned up."

Yet even as she said it Vokara wondered about the crystal. She did not sense a dark aura around it, but nonetheless wondered if the small stone was in part responsible for Obi-Wan's current state.

* * *

Bail Organa found himself in front of the Jedi high council for the second time in as many days. He hadn't thought they would come to a decision so quickly, and that meant that they'd probably decided against providing aid in the galactic conflict.

Those fears were laid to rest swiftly. It was immediately apparent that they had requested his presence for an entirely different matter. He was relieved that they hadn't made a hasty decision, but alarmed when the reason was revealed.

"Is Obi-Wan all right?" Bail asked, concern for his friend evident in his face and tone of voice. Footsteps alerted him to a new arrival. He turned and spotted a Twi'lek woman walking up beside him. Her skin was a rather striking shade of blue.

"He suffers from acute exhaustion of both body and mind," she said.

"This is Senior Healer Vokara Che," Mace said. "Obi-Wan is under her care."

"I understand you've been travelling with him," Vokara said.

"Yes," Bail said as he turned to face her fully. "For a number of weeks now."

"Did you see him do anything particularly strenuous?" Vokara asked, her tone business-like, as though commanding the man before her to get to the point _quickly_. "I need as much information pertaining to his physical and mental state during your travels as you can provide, please."

"Of course," Bail nodded, folding his hands in front of him as he prepared to launch into his explanation. "When we met he seemed a man who could take on an army by himself, but mere days later when we left Alderaan together I began to notice small things. Weariness seemed to settle over him during moments where he thought I wasn't looking. He hid it well, I must admit, and I didn't think much of it at first. I thought it was simple melancholy. And who could blame him. From where I sat I saw a man who had lost far more than most. I didn't pry.

"It was after he infiltrated the Jedi Temple on Obroa-Skai that I realised he wasn't as healthy as he made himself out to be," Bail cleared his throat before continuing. "I don't know what he had to do in there. He told me to wait in the ship, you see. When he returned he was being chased by clones and he looked like he was about to pass out. To be direct, he looked sickly. Pale, sweaty, eyes bloodshot, breathing seemed an effort for him."

"How long ago was this?" Vokara asked.

"Two and a half weeks ago," Bail said.

"How much sleep did he get once you left Obroa-Skai?" Vokara frowned.

"Very little, I'm afraid," Bail said. "He was unconscious for nearly two cycles following our trip to Obroa-Skai, but aft—"

"Why was he unconscious?" Vokara interjected, her frown deepening.

"Well he. . ." Bail hesitated, feeling an odd chill on his neck. Every pair of eyes in the room was locked on his form, and while he was no stranger to attention, it was certainly different when you were the centre of attention in a room full of Jedi Masters. "He did something incredible. We would be space debris if he hadn't somehow redirected the star destroyer's turbolasers."

"He what?" Mace Windu asked.

"He—"

"No, you don't need to explain it again," Mace said. "Are you _certain_ that's what you saw?"

"More than that," Bail said. "I could see. . . _something_. . . surround him, surround the ship. It was. . . I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. Perhaps it was, but we survived and made the jump to hyperspace. Obi-Wan fell unconscious and didn't wake for two cycles. He doesn't remember what he managed to do."

The Jedi Masters all made minute movements. A simple shift of a shoulder here, a twitch of a foot there, a shallow nod. It was completely silent in the room as every Jedi Master appeared to carefully consider Bail Organa's words.

"That is. . . Unprecedented," Ki-Adi-Mundi said, breaking the silence.

"And after he woke?" Vokara asked.

"He began guiding us here," Bail said. "I tried to get him to rest, but he was adamant. For the past two weeks I've seen him lie down to sleep only a handful of times. He'd be up in the cockpit with his eyes closed, nearly in perpetuity, leaving only to take care of bodily functions. If I didn't bring him food I wonder if he would have remembered to eat. He spent every moment in meditation, and when I asked what he was doing he said he was studying the currents of the Force so he could guide us here."

Vokara Che made a sound of disapproval before turning towards the door. "I believe I have what I need," she said as she began walking towards the door.

Bail watched the beautiful Jedi healer leave, and hoped that serious harm hadn't befallen Obi-Wan. With a sigh he blamed himself for not being more assertive with the Jedi during their travels. He should have forced him to rest.

* * *

 _The path you need tread is the path you have already taken, but the roads have changed, and to walk them lightly would lead to depths better left unexplored._

Obi-Wan drifted somewhere between the gentle lull of sleep and the caution of wakefulness. He thought he recognised the voice, but struggled to place it. The words were not familiar and he wished the presence would stop speaking in riddles.

 _Rest well, for the journey ahead is paved with brittle stone._

The voice faded, and the presence along with it. Obi-Wan felt the murky edges of unconsciousness retreat, and became aware of the shuffling of feet on floor near him. He heard the rustling of leaves in the wind, and the joyous chirping of birds. Forcing his eyelids open was difficult. They clung to one another, sticky with the evidence of long sleep. He swallowed, displeased with the grating discomfort in the back of his throat and the cottony feel of his mouth.

"Someone's been burning the candle at both ends," a female voice said. The tone suggested a strange mix of relief, curiosity, and annoyance. Obi-Wan turned his head—slowly, as his neck was strangely stiff—and saw the familiar face of Vokara Che. Her lekku twitched in what Obi-Wan knew meant she was barely holding herself back from delivering a tirade in that oddly subdued way she was known for.

"How lo—" Obi-Wan coughed, the dryness of his throat making speech impossible. Vokara brought a cup to his lips and helped him raise his head just enough so he could drink. After a few sips he tried again. "How long was I out?"

Vokara took a deep breath through her nose. "Nearly five rotations," she said.

Obi-Wan frowned. He could feel the sting of Vokara's rebuke through the waves of disapproval she released into the Force, and suddenly he felt the need to justify himself. "There's so much pain in the galaxy, Vokara," he said. "I couldn't waste time."

"We may be luminous beings, Obi-Wan," the healer rebutted. "But while we are tied to this mortal plane our bodies do need rest. _Unless_ your plan is to rejoin the Force prematurely, then I suppose it doesn't matter."

Obi-Wan could appreciate the jab at his carelessness, but decided to reign in the smirk that threatened to leap to his face. The situation was much too serious for that.

"I'm not sure if it was a dream, or a hallucination, or if it. . . If it actually happened," Obi-Wan said as he brought a hand up to rub at his forehead.

Vokara sighed.

"Whatever it was, Obi-Wan," she said. "At least thirty masters and knights bore witness to it. Master Yoda seems to think you had one foot in the present and one in the past. No one seems to understand yet how that was possible, and I imagine you don't either, considering what your last words were before you collapsed."

Obi-Wan shook his head and dropped his hand to his stomach. "I suppose you're going to keep me here for a while," he said with just a hint of disappointment.

"You need _rest_ , Kenobi," she said. "I don't think you understand how serious this is. I have never seen this level of Force-exhaustion before. I may permit you to leave my care within the next day or so, depending on what I see when I examine you. But that most certainly will not mean free reign to do as you please. I'm not above forcing a sleep-suggestion on you."

"I understand," Obi-Wan said. He wouldn't fight the healer. He'd been exhausted, physically and mentally for far too long. Finding the Jedi seemed like a matter of such urgency at the time, and now Obi-Wan wondered why he'd not practised patience the way he'd been taught.

 _It's because there is a Sith lord at the head of the Republic,_ he thought. Yet he knew the issue wasn't as simple as that.

One Sith seemed a small problem compared to what he experienced before he finally reached his point of collapse. But a battlefield was far different from the political moorings Palpatine held in his clutches.

Obi-Wan felt it as he lay there, that the answers were out there on Tython. He turned his head away from Vokara's scrupulous gaze and looked out the window.

The snow-capped western mountains sat in view, waiting.

 _Waiting for me._

* * *

She was gone. He couldn't believe it. She was gone and there wasn't so much as a security recording to show who had taken her. There were signs of struggle, an overturned table, a torn viewscreen, scattered holobooks, and most worryingly of all. . . little crimson drops spattered against the wall.

Anakin studied the scene. She was supposed to be safe on Alderaan. How could they have found her? Why did they take her? Where?

His anger rose in him like an acidic cloud.

Anakin turned on his heel and was about to storm out when a series of rhythmic blips drew his attention to the comlink lying innocently on the floor. He crouched down next to it, face drawn into a snarl, and answered.

"Who is this?"

Static crackled over the channel.

"Who. Is. This?" Anakin asked again, enunciating each word with a quiet emphasis that promised retribution.

" _We have your wife,_ " an altered voice said. The person spoke with an outer rim accent and a conversational tone, playful, as though they were discussing which restaurant to try out for lunch. Anakin thought it might be a male behind the synthetic tone, but with such devices one could never truly tell.

"Is she all right?" He asked, forcing his voice to betray neither his anger nor his panic.

" _She'll live_ ," the voice said.

"You'll return her to me right now, unharmed," Anakin said, his voice leaving no room for discussion.

The synthetic voice laughed.

" _That's not how this works_ ," it said. " _But don't worry. She holds more value to us alive than dead. At least for now_."

The voice cut the connection, and the thin tether of Anakin's emotions followed suit. His hands shook, his eyes grew hot and moist while the muscles in his face twitched. Breathing became hard. He wanted to scream.

Whoever took Padme would pay.

They would pay dearly.

* * *

Obi-Wan followed Vokara Che's orders to the letter. Two weeks later she still wouldn't let him so much as jog the perimeter of the temple grounds, but at least he could spend his days outdoors among the lush greenery. He sat between the roots of an ancient tree, his back leaning against its trunk, and watched Ferus and his padawan train Ataru velocities.

The young Togruta padawan was quick, agile, and it was only Ferus' superior experience that kept him ahead of the girl's aggressive approach to the training. It would stay that way for a long time, but eventually the girl would best Ferus in a duel, likely far sooner than the young knight would anticipate. Then again, perhaps not. Ferus had always been particularly skilled, and as Ahsoka improved, so would he. Obi-Wan predicted that eventually their bouts would grow into a stalemate.

"Ah, not again!"

But stalemates were far off. Obi-Wan grinned around his hand as Ahsoka was bested yet again by her master.

"Master Obi-Wan," Ahsoka said loudly. "I bet if you teach me a few moves I can beat my master in a duel!"

"Possibly," Obi-Wan said. It was an effort to keep his face straight, and a hint of a smile became visible through his beard. "But I'm afraid Master Che hasn't yet cleared me for any activity involving a lightsaber."

"Just a few sequences," Ahsoka said, her blue eyes hopeful and so eager.

Obi-Wan almost agreed. Almost. "I'm sorry Ahsoka," he said, his voice conveying his true regret. "I would like nothing more, but I'd rather not test Master Che's resolve. She _did_ threaten to tie me to a bed and trigger a sleep compulsion if I didn't follow her orders."

"She did _not_ ," Ahsoka's mouth fell open.

"Well, maybe not the bit about being tied to the bed," Obi-Wan chuckled. "But she really did threaten sleep compulsion. She's quite skilled at that, you know. I doubt even Master Windu can resist that particular ability of hers."

"Healers are scary," Ahsoka muttered as she turned away to face her master again.

Obi-Wan laughed silently. His joy slowly dimmed to a gentle contentment as he watched Ahsoka move through her drills. Somewhere between the third and seventh velocity Obi-Wan's attention was drawn to a blond head of hair rounding the small field. Siri walked to him slowly, her eyes appraising the padawan's movements. When she reached Obi-Wan she sat down on one of the bulking tree roots.

"How are you feeling?" Siri asked, her eyes still studying the padawan and master pair.

"The best I've felt in a long time," Obi-Wan said, and he meant it. For the first time in years he felt rested. His concerns had not left him, but his body had finally had a chance to recover from the long ordeal that began all the way back on Coruscant, where he nearly lost his life fighting to safeguard the Jedi Order's escape. His spirit was on the mend as well. Being around his Jedi family restored him in a way he hadn't known he'd needed.

"I'm glad to hear it," Siri said. "Master Yoda sent a message along with me."

"Oh?"

"He wants to speak with you after evening meal."

Obi-Wan leaned his head back and stared at the swaying branches above him. The old grandmaster had been meditating in solitude since that strange event where past and present seemed to converge upon Obi-Wan.

The young Jedi Master nodded his head. "I wonder if he's learned something," he said.

"If he has he can enlighten us all," Siri said, a shred of annoyance seeping into her voice. "This is the longest we've gone without experiencing a Force storm, even a small one, and it has to be tied to that event somehow."

"Tied to me, you mean," Obi-Wan grimaced. "And you're frustrated because I understand as little about it as you do."

Siri sighed and stood. "We will never understand all the mysteries of the Force," she said. "But I fear the longer we sit on this planet in isolation, the more lost we will become. We are supposed to follow the will of the Force, and somehow I doubt its intent is for us to sit on our hands, waiting for the next storm to hit."

"We have to be patient," Obi-Wan said. "When it's time, the way forward will be revealed."

Siri shook her head and began walking towards Ferus and Ahsoka. Halfway there she turned back to Obi-Wan and said, "I've never been the philosophical type, Obi-Wan. I'd rather tackle the problem head-on than sit around and wait for a solution to present itself."

Obi-Wan frowned at her choice of words, but did not respond. He watched her join in Ahsoka's training, and observed them until they left the field. Without the distraction of their training Obi-Wan's thoughts turned back to that ancient battle he'd briefly been flung into.

He still didn't understand what the Force's intention had been, and thinking about it brought no answers. Obi-Wan cleared his mind and patiently waited for the sun to set.

* * *

He found Master Yoda sitting beneath the branches of a young tree, in a grove not far from the temple. The old master's cloak lay crumpled on a patch of grass beside him. Without a word Obi-Wan took a seat next to the ancient Jedi. The silence was comfortable, soothing in a way that Obi-Wan missed from his days as a youngling in the crèche, when Master Yoda would occasionally drop by simply to watch them learn.

After a time, the wizened grandmaster broke the silence. "Blind, I have been," he said.

"Master?" Obi-Wan frowned at hearing the subdued, almost self-rebuke in his tone.

"Changed, the galaxy has," Yoda placed his gimer stick on the ground next to him. "Changed, the Jedi Order has not. Allow it to change, I have not. Shaped young Jedi in the image of my masters, I have. From a different time, they were."

"The Order has gone through many changes throughout the millennia, master," Obi-Wan reasoned. "And it is not up to a single individual. The council exists for a reason."

Yoda's eyes filled with mirth as he finally turned to face Obi-Wan. "See my arrogance, do you?"

"That is not what I meant, master," Obi-Wan said, troubled now by the direction of the conversation.

"Ah, but a grain of truth, there is," Yoda said. "Too loud my voice has been. Blind to the wisdom of others, I have allowed myself to become. A wise man, was Qui-Gon Jinn."

Obi-Wan's eyes snapped to Yoda's at the mention of his master. There had been moments in the past months where Obi-Wan had been almost certain that he'd heard the man's voice. And as he stared into Yoda's eyes he knew he hadn't simply been dreaming or imagining it.

"You've heard him," Obi-Wan said.

Yoda nodded, and the relief spread through Obi-Wan like a flood.

"Wishes to speak to you, I think," Yoda said. "Already know the way, you do."

Obi-Wan glanced towards the western mountains, and wondered if it was truly as simple as that. He'd felt the pull since the moment he arrived on Tython, and while its insistence had dimmed, it was still there, tugging at him to remind him that the mountain still waited.

"Master Che hasn't cleared me yet," Obi-Wan said. "And my lightsaber hasn't been returned to me. I'll need it if I am to venture out into the unknown."

Yoda lifted his cloak and two lightsaber hilts were revealed. Obi-Wan's own, as well as the artefact that had somehow stayed with him. "Take both, you should," Yoda said. "And worry not about Master Che. Deal with her, I shall."

"Obi-Wan picked up the two hilts, and clipped them to his belt. "Thank you, Master Yoda," Obi-Wan said.

"Go now, you must," Yoda grunted as he pushed himself to his feet. "Delay further, you must not. Perhaps revealed to you, this mystery will be. Perhaps wisdom, you will bring."

Obi-Wan stood and silently watched as Master Yoda donned his cloak once more and picked up his gimer stick. He kept pace with the ancient Jedi as they made their way back to the temple, but somewhere along the path Yoda came to a standstill and turned his gaze up to Obi-Wan.

Then, with a mischievous grin and a chuckle, he struck his gimer stick across the younger Jedi's shins. Obi-Wan didn't dare leap out of the way.

"Go, I said," Yoda chuckled.

Obi-Wan smiled gently, folded his hands into opposite sleeves, and gave the old grandmaster a deep bow. "I will return," Obi-Wan said.

He turned around and walked off into the night, towards the western mountains.

* * *

Notes: I was watching Rebels when I wrote this book, and once I saw Ezra go into that place that seems to link different points in time and space together, the thought of what that could mean wouldn't leave me alone. In my mind it's part of the unifying Force, and since in Legends Obi-Wan is shown to have a particular link with it (for example, in the Wild Space novel he once saw the outcome of Anakin's space battle during meditation while lightyears away), I thought it wouldn't be too much of a stretch for Obi-Wan to have an experience where the rigid borders that separates past from present become blurred. In legends Tython is very sensitive to the shifts in the balance of the Force (with Force storms becoming more violent the greater the imbalance), and so I reasoned that someone like Obi-Wan could, under the right circumstances, fall into and perceive one of these anomalies where the unifying Force (time and space) is unstable. Other Jedi experience these anomalies as intangible phantoms, some can't see them at all because their link to the unifying Force isn't strong enough. I probably did a lot of overthinking, but I needed a way to justify this craziness to myself. So there we go.


	14. Chapter 14

Posted 3/3/2019

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

14.

Four days after leaving Master Yoda's company Obi-Wan was still traversing the jagged surface of what must have been one of Tython's largest mountains. The black stone was covered in moss and mushrooms, making it dangerously slippery to walk on. The closer he got to the summit the more the moss gave way to splintered edges and odd barnacle growths. It resembled something one might find growing beneath the sea, not on a mountain top, but Obi-Wan had seen plenty of unusual plants and creatures in his life, so he didn't find it particularly strange.

He breathed in the crisp air, breath puffing out in small clouds of condensation. It was getting colder, the sparse snow cover from meters below turning into a denser cloak of white the higher he climbed. Obi-Wan wanted to shake his head at himself, for once siding with Master Che. Maybe he shouldn't have left without the healer's approval, but he also knew that Master Yoda had been right. The closer he came to the summit, the stronger the Force's draw became.

Obi-Wan knew he was going exactly where he needed to.

Still, he exercised great patience, stopping often, making camp when he needed rest and taking care not to overexert himself. In a way, the solitude was nice. It was a different kind of solitude compared to what he experienced during his captivity. One in which he knew that those he cared about were but a stone's throw away.

Their numbers may have thinned, but those who remained still harboured spirits shining bright in the Force.

A sense of peace settled within Obi-Wan's heart as he continued his way up the snowy slopes. He thought he was getting close to the peak, but the low-hanging clouds obscured the mountaintop. The winds slowly began picking up as he stepped out onto a ledge leading up a steep set of stones arranged in a stair-like fashion. From the way the stones had cracked Obi-Wan thought that a staircase must once have been carved into the mountainside.

The chill snapped around his cloak as suddenly as a bee sting, instantly inducing shivers. He drew his arms to his chest, and had to lean into the cliff-side as a sudden gust of wind brought with it a pelting of snow flakes that caught in his beard and cut across the bare skin of his cheeks.

 _This complicates matters,_ Obi-Wan thought as he squinted up at the distance he still needed to cover. He could feel the beginnings of icy numbness in his ears, nose, and fingers as he caught sight of the shifting clouds some four hundred meters above him.

It was midday and he had two options; Go back down and wait for the weather to clear, or soldier on to the top. He was close now, he could feel it, but freezing to death would be a real possibility if he reached the summit and was unable to find shelter. It was likely that the air would continue to thin out as well. Hypoxia would be another threat, and he didn't have a rebreather with him. That seemed like such an idiotic oversight now, but Master Yoda had practically chased him from the temple.

Obi-Wan crouched down and leaned his back against the cold stone. He glanced up to the icy shelves of rock above, then down to the jagged outcroppings below. With the new snowfall starting to cover his tracks there wasn't really a _safe_ option. Going back down presented less of a risk, but only because he knew what to expect. Above lay a mystery. A mystery that kept calling to him, beckoning him forward the way a parent might a child.

He could only sigh, close his eyes, and lean his head against the stone.

Obi-Wan clutched a hand over his heart where the little kaiburr crystal rested within his tunics. He waited. He stopped thinking. He felt.

 _Up._

With a deep breath Obi-Wan steeled himself against the cold, called upon the Force to help keep his blood warm and pumping, and pushed himself to his feet. His ascent began anew, into the icy winds and treacherous terrain he went. The visibility decreased the higher he progressed, but his awareness of the Force grew with every step. Obi-Wan knew he was heading straight for a Force nexus.

There was something at the summit. Something ancient.

A brief gap in the clouds revealed a twin set of stone pillars, carved in vaguely humanoid shape, but it was too far for Obi-Wan's human eyes to identify the details. The mist rolled past and obscured the two stone figures once more, but now the Jedi at least had a point to aim for.

 _It must be an entry point of some sort,_ Obi-Wan thought. _Similar to the statues of ancient Jedi Masters outside the Order's temples._

Obi-Wan pushed his physical limitations aside, and called on the Force to aid in his ascent. He had no way to keep track of time, with the sun's rays scattered within the thick mist, offering no insight into where in the sky the sun currently sat. To his senses the remainder of the journey felt rather swift.

When he finally looked upon the twin pillars he saw clearly, despite its weathered state, what the two figures represented. They were opposites in every way, and the duality of the representation reminded starkly of the painting on the ceiling of the council chambers.

One figure appeared to represent the light, the other the dark. _Like Tython's moons,_ Obi-Wan thought.

He stepped between the two towering statues and began ascending the stairs. It led him up and around the peak. At one point Obi-Wan had to Force-jump over an enormous piece of rock that had fallen into the passage, but that proved to be the only obstacle of any significance. Not long after a set of stone doors hid the entry into the rocky mountain's summit.

Obi-Wan stopped in front of the doorway to catch his breath. The air had grown thin, as he knew it would at that altitude, but knowing it and experiencing it were two different things. His breaths came in short gasps, the air holding too little oxygen to fill his lungs. He began feeling faint and knew he'd be in trouble if he didn't do something quickly.

The doors ahead of him were frozen over, ice flaking off the surface. Obi-Wan dropped to his knees in front of it and took out his lightsaber. He didn't want to damage the ancient doors if he could help it, so he started hammering away the ice with the pommel to see what was depicted on the surface. What he found was yet another representation of light and dark duality, but the subject wasn't the moons or humanoid figures this time. Instead it depicted a tree with countless flowing branches and roots that spread all the way to the bottom edges of the doorway, and down the centre a thin line ran.

Obi-Wan focused on the line, and sensed that it was where the two doorways joined. He placed a hand against the icy stone and closed his eyes. He drew on the Force, and felt the cavernous space beyond. He felt the crevasses the doors ought to slide into, and knew that he needed only to reach out and draw them apart.

So he did.

Obi-Wan reached out a hand and with the Force slid the heavy stone doors open. Darkness loomed beyond, but it was an escape from the wind and ice still buffeting him, so he entered without a second thought. Once inside he ignited his lightsaber and the room was immediately filled with a blue glow, magnified by what appeared to be countless crystals growing on the walls.

It was a sight unlike any he had ever seen before.

Warmth pulsed against his chest, and Obi-Wan quickly stuck a hand inside his tunics and pulled out the kaiburr crystal. It seemed to resonate with the cavern around him. And no wonder, too. At a glance it was easy to identify that the crystals growing on the walls were also kaiburr.

As Obi-Wan's gaze wandered around the place he spotted a small altar in the centre of the room. He knelt beside it and breathed as deeply as the thin air would allow.

 _I'm here_ , he thought. The Force was strong around him, but it existed in an uncontrolled rhythm. There was no thought or direction, no purpose that Obi-Wan could identify. So he ignored the fact that he'd been drawn there, and did what he'd wanted to do weeks ago. He pulled the ancient lightsaber from his belt and placed it on the stone altar in front of him. Next to it he placed the small kaiburr crystal. Then, he deactivated his own blade and stowed it at his side before closing his eyes and emptying his mind of all thoughts, seeking to become one with the Force in that place and in that moment.

Time lost all meaning, and gradually the Force reshaped itself into a harmonious river around the Jedi.

 _Obi-Wan._

Without losing his grip on what he was feeling, Obi-Wan opened his eyes to the bright blue glow of the chamber. The source of the light was unknown, but the voice he'd heard was one he would forever recognise.

"Qui-Gon?" He whispered.

 _My padawan. At last you can hear me. I have watched over you for many years, and I know your path has not been easy._

"You returned to the Force twelve years ago," Obi-Wan said, voice steady. "How is it possible that you are speaking to me now?"

 _It is possible to maintain one's sense of self after returning to the Force. It is a path to immortality. My own training was incomplete before my physical death, and I cannot yet commune with the living at will without a nexus, but I can teach you the path._

"You can teach me to achieve immortality?" Obi-Wan's surprise was quickly drained away by his rationale. "What good is immortality within the Force's embrace when the living have been plunged into darkness? Have you brought me here only to teach me how to continue living after death?"

 _You are disappointed._

"Well. . . Yes!" Obi-Wan said. "I followed the will of the Force and it led me here, and I'd hoped it would be for a reason other than my own gain."

 _What is it you seek, Obi-Wan?_

"I seek to help the Jedi find their place in the galaxy once more," Obi-Wan said, conviction growing more firm as he spoke. "I seek to save the Republic's democracy, to defeat the Sith lord who holds it hostage."

 _These are grand ambitions, padawan._

"Ambitions? No, not at all. These are _necessities_ if civilization is to be preserved. If _peace_ is to be won and maintained."

 _And how would this be achieved?_

Obi-Wan blinked. "I don't know," he said.

 _Change is inevitable. To fight it is as futile as trying to change the tides._

"When change is forced by a tyrant it should _not_ simply be accepted," Obi-Wan argued. "Sheev Palpatine has brought much suffering to the galaxy, and we cannot let his reign continue."

 _So you will kill him._

Obi-Wan was silent for a time as he contemplated an answer. A heavy weight settled in his heart. "I've trained my whole life to become a devastating warrior," he said. "Though I'd. . . I'd rather not fight. I'd rather resolve all this peacefully, but galactic politics is as wrought with hyperbole and misinformation as war-time propaganda. It's only grown worse under Palpatine's influence. He built armies for the sole purpose of destroying the Jedi Order, and if we hadn't found out about it we very well might have been purged to extinction.

"The man has plotted genocide and very nearly succeeded. So yes, if Palpatine gave me no other option, I would kill him. If I were able to."

 _You think yourself incapable?_

"I don't know the extent of his power," Obi-Wan sighed. "But if the shadow over Coruscant is the result of him alone, then he must be uniquely powerful in the dark side of the Force."

 _Perhaps the problem doesn't lie with the Sith._

Obi-Wan's brows drew together, carving a deep line between his brows. His hands clenched his knees in a white-knuckled grip. "What are you implying, master?"

 _Balance must be achieved._

"Yes, well," Obi-Wan's voice grew soft as the fight slowly drained from him. "I have failed in the most important task you ever gave me. I've failed Anakin. My padawan. The _chosen one_. How can he bring balance to the Force if I could not even guide him to find balance within himself?"

 _He must find his own path to balance. To claim his failures as your own is arrogance. You are not he, and you do not make his decisions for him._

"He killed—" Obi-Wan swallowed his words. Two years later and he was still reeling from that sad night on Tatooine. He thought he'd dealt with those emotions. He thought he'd released them into the Force. But as he sat there in that ice cold crystal cave, the blue glow reflecting and refracting throughout the cavern, he realised that he still blamed himself for Anakin's inability to master his emotions.

Perhaps that was because he hadn't yet mastered his own. Obi-Wan dipped his head and accepted his failure as a Jedi Master.

 _Stop it._

Obi-Wan raised his head. Confusion filled his eyes as he looked at the flowing blue light. "Stop what?" He asked.

 _You have become a great Jedi, Obi-Wan._ Too _great, perhaps. And that is no fault of your own._

Obi-Wan stayed silent, and waited. He did not contradict his old master, and simply waited for whatever wisdom Qui-Gon wished to impart to him.

 _Why do you think the council feared the boy?_

He should have known better than to expect a simple lesson. Qui-Gon had always taught in a way that forced him to find the answers on his own. It was the harder path, in the end, but Obi-Wan also knew it was the better, more meaningful path.

"To bring balance to the Force, an imbalance must first exist," Obi-Wan said. "Perhaps the council feared the boy because they could not identify the imbalance."

 _The Sith revealed themselves at the same time the Force led us to the boy._

"Two Sith, and ten thousand Jedi," Obi-Wan said. "Quite imbalanced, but I suppose Sith and Jedi are not of the Force. Therefore that could not have been what the council feared."

 _Explain._

"The Force will continue to exist whether or not there are Jedi to seek a greater understanding of it, or Sith to uncompromisingly wield its power. The Force will always be there, because it exists in every living organism. It's what binds our galaxy together, it's the only thing that transcends the bounds of time and space itself," Obi-Wan closed his eyes again as his thoughts took shape.

"Master Yoda told me he has not allowed the Jedi to change. Complacency. A slow decline into ruin. On an instinctual level he must have realised that the appearance of a _chosen one_ could mean that the Jedi themselves were out of balance with the Force."

 _So much time spent contemplating sentient-created constructs. What do you think the Force thinks of this?_

Obi-Wan opened his eyes as the beginnings of understanding dawned on him. Eyes wide, he said, "The Force _doesn't_ think. It doesn't need to. It simply _is_. How we channel its power is based purely on our intent. Our emotions. . . our _emotions_ affect. . . Anger draws more power, depression leeches it from us. Our intent. . . The Jedi have isolated themselves. We've lived apart from the wider galaxy. The average person thinks of us as obscure mystics or religious fanatics.

"Through seeking greater understanding of the Force we've forgotten to pay attention to the very thing that creates it."

 _And what is that, Obi-Wan?_

" _Life_ ," Obi-Wan felt a strange sensation in his chest. He could only describe it as a feeling of elation as the Force swelled within and around him. "The Jedi have become disconnected from the living Force. We spend so much time attempting to understand and unravel the mysteries of the unifying Force that we've forgotten the importance of the fundamentals of existence."

 _And what can you conclude from this?_

"The Jedi must change," Obi-Wan said without even a moment's hesitation. "We have to remember where we came from. We have to remember what balance in the Force _means_."

 _And you must be the one to guide them._

"How can I guide them, when I still have so much to learn," Obi-Wan said, and the Force around him subdued into a gentle flow.

 _Do not doubt yourself, Obi-Wan. You already have the answers._

"I may not have the time necessary to reform the Order," Obi-Wan said as his thoughts darted back to galactic conflict. "Many Jedi will oppose the very notion. Meanwhile, the galaxy remains locked in war, feeding the Sith's power."

 _You will do as you must. That is all any of us can do._

The following silence was comforting, like a blanket wrapped snugly around the shoulders in the middle of winter. Obi-Wan focused on his breathing, on filtering as much oxygen from the thin air into his lungs as he could. He'd had to adapt to such fluctuations in breathable air before. Often, in fact. Not every planet had the same atmosphere, the same ratios of gasses. He'd had to struggle through the hallucinations of hypoxia once or twice as a padawan, and that led his thoughts to the idea of Force illusions, to what had happened to him on the pathway leading to the temple.

"Was I trapped in a Force-born illusion or was the battle real?" Obi-Wan asked.

 _It was real, and you were there, yet not there._

Obi-Wan sighed. "That makes very little sense, master," he said. "I picked up a lightsaber from a fallen Jedi, and it stayed with me. The blood that spattered my face and tunics from the destructive blasts was also real. How was that possible, if I wasn't. . . How was any of that possible?"

 _You are on Tython. It is a planet that has always been exceptionally sensitive to the imbalances created in the Force. It seeks to restore that balance, and you understand the suffering it seeks to rectify. You understand it, because you have lived it, and so, the Force has chosen you to see what others would not be able to interpret._

"It was a battle between Jedi and Sith," Obi-Wan said. "What more is there to interpret?"

 _Perhaps involving you in the battle was merely a catalyst for providing the wisdom you need._

"The lightsaber. . ." Obi-Wan said in a breathless whisper as realisation dawned on him.

 _Yes. You have the skill to look into the past, and have done so at will. Now, this lightsaber has been brought to your hand. You will discover what teachings it holds. Of that, Obi-Wan, I am certain._

The blue glow of the cave began to dim, and the cold slowly drew itself against his skin once more, displacing the pleasant warmth that the strong presence had brought. Obi-Wan sensed that his time with Qui-Gon was running short, and that he'd learned all he could from that cave, from Qui-Gon's presence. There was little left that needed to be said.

"I have missed you, master."

 _The Force will be with you, Obi-Wan. Always. And so will I._

* * *

The storm had been raging for three days. Lightning crashed upon the stone, scorching it black. It struck trees, setting them ablaze, and all the while the Jedi hid within their rediscovered temple.

"I have to tend to the crops!" The disgruntled tone of an older man floated across the kitchen area. "Our stores won't last indefinitely."

Siri glanced up from the datapad in front of her and looked past Ferus' shoulder at the grizzled Agricorp veteran. She sighed. There wasn't anything they could do about the weather, and it most certainly wasn't safe to wander outside. Besides, it was hardly the first time they'd had to hole themselves up and wait for a storm to pass. She turned her attention back to her datapad, where she was busy helping Ferus update the kitchen duty schedule.

"They keep getting worse," Ferus said quietly.

"I imagine this is why sentient beings have abandoned the deep core," Siri said. "Nature becomes increasingly unpredictable and destructive the closer one travels to the galaxy's centre."

"And the Jedi plan to stay here, in obscurity, eventually fading away entirely," Ferus' voice was soft, but his tone did not leave his mood up to Siri's imagination. He was displeased.

"The council is still debating," she said, attempting to appease herself with her own words. Ferus had every right to be frustrated with the situation. She was as well. She hated sitting on her hands while a room full of cautious beings _talked_ about what was best for them all.

"But what if they do decide for us to stay here?" Ferus asked. "We would have to take. . . precautions so our Order doesn't die out."

"Is that what has you so worried, Ferus?" Siri leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. "That you _might_ have to father children?"

"I wasn't raised to think of myself in such a role," he sighed. "I was raised to mediate disputes, with a lightsaber if necessary, not to hide on a long forgotten planet while the galaxy slowly kills itself. You heard the news Bail Organa brought."

Siri didn't disagree with him. On the contrary, her own opinion on the matter was quite vehement. But she held her tongue for the sake of the younger Jedi who looked to her for guidance. If the time came to make a little noise, she would gladly do so, but patience held far more value in the present moment. Even if it irked her a great deal to do nothing.

"I wish I could set your mind at ease," Siri said.

Ferus sighed. "This doesn't feel right."

"I know."

They sat in silence, datapads forgotten on the table. Kitchen staff chatter drifted towards them along with the sounds of boiling stew, steam, and vegetables being peeled.

"I'm sure Obi-Wan will be back soon," Siri said. "Maybe talking to him will help us both."

"He is dear to you, isn't he," Ferus said. He caught the stern glint of his former master's eyes, and wondered if he'd perhaps crossed a line.

"I've known him since we were younglings," Siri said. "Of course I care for him."

"And if things—"

"No, Ferus," Siri interrupted, voice stern. "There are no _what ifs_ here. Things are the way they are, and to contemplate anything else is to forget our purpose."

"Forgive me, master. I overstepped," Ferus said, bowing his head.

Siri sighed and stretched out a hand to lift Ferus' chin. She waited until he met her eyes, then said, "There is nothing to forgive. We live in a time of great uncertainty, and that is why it's so important that we remember what we, as Jedi, have learned. This uncertainty is growing into the beginnings of fear. We cannot let that seed take root, or the Order is doomed without any more help from the Sith."

"I understand," Ferus said so quietly his voice nearly went unheard beneath the sound of knives on chopping boards.

* * *

Anakin stared at the holographic projection of a man he once trusted. Now, he didn't know if he should end the connection before anything was said, or if he should give him a chance to say what he wanted to say. In the end, his grim curiosity won over his bitterness.

"How did you get this comcode?" Anakin asked in his most neutral voice.

" _It's a simple matter, for someone like me_ ," the voice of Sheev Palpatine crackled through the sound device, the hologram flickered in time with the auditory distortion.

"Someone like you?" Anakin raised his chin. "Do you mean a Chancellor, or a _Sith_?"

The image of Palpatine's lips stretched into a smile that failed to touch his eyes. " _Have I ever been unkind to you, Anakin?_ "

"You lied to me," Anakin said. "You made yourself out to be my friend."

" _I_ am _your friend._ "

Anakin sighed. The galaxy looked so different to him now. He could scarcely believe that he'd ever trusted Sheev Palpatine. Posing as a caring adult had only made the sting of his lies and betrayal so much worse when his nature was revealed on Serreno. "You're not my friend," Anakin said. "You're the reason Naboo was invaded, and the reason why Master Qui-Gon died. You tried to have all the Jedi executed. Why would I want to be friends with someone like that?"

" _You misunderstand, dear boy,_ " Palpatine said, his face a mask of concern. " _The Jedi betrayed the Republic and would hav—_ "

"I don't want to hear any more of your lies," Anakin said loudly. "You _planned_ the Battle of Naboo, then you manipulated Padme to unseat Chancellor Valorum, which let you swoop in and _save the day_. I have little patience for your manipulative games. Get to the point, please."

Anakin watched as Palpatine's face morphed into calm exasperation. " _Be careful, Anakin Skywalker,_ " he said calmly. " _I would so hate for you to choose the wrong friends. It could be, shall we say, detrimental._ "

"Your threats don't scare me," Anakin crossed his arms and raised his chin another fraction.

" _No, no, you misunderstand, dear boy,_ " Palpatine's expression changed to one of deep concern. " _I reached out to you today because I heard some disturbing news. There are rumours that a Separatist cell has taken Padme Amidala captive. I also heard rumours that the two of you have grown close. I can only imagine the pain and worry you must feel, not knowing if she's safe, or if she's even still alive._ "

Anakin sat completely motionless as he processed Palpatine's words. "I doubt it was a Separatist cell," he finally said.

" _What makes you so certain?_ " Palpatine's brow raised in a line that was supposed to convey compassion, but all Anakin saw were the soulless eyes beneath. He could only wonder how, as a young padawan, he'd never noticed it.

"Because," Anakin sighed. "Dooku asked me for my help not too long ago. Now why would he do that, and then immediately betray me?"

" _Interesting,_ " Palpatine said, and for once Anakin was unable to read his expression. " _And you trust him over me, do you?_ "

"I don't trust either of you."

" _You turned him down? That could explain the kidnapping._ "

"It's Padme's help he wanted. Why would he go through the trouble of talking to me first if he was just going to kidnap her anyway. Besides, she can't do what he wants her to from a cage. You're far more likely to have taken her, _Chancellor_."

" _I assure you I did no such thing,_ " Palpatine said, raising his own chin as a strange darkness entered his gaze, as though he knew he was about to get his way. " _But. . . I am willing to help you find her,_ if _you do something for me first._ "

Anakin wanted to cut the communication with the Sith Lord, but he doubted Palpatine would make the offer twice. He sat, indecisive, while the Sith merely looked on with an expression of dark calm. The silence stretched on, and finally, with a sigh, Anakin decided that it probably wouldn't hurt to hear Palpatine out. Padme would listen, at least, if their positions were reversed. Wouldn't she?

"What did you have in mind?"


	15. Chapter 15

Posted 5/3/2019

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

15.

The trek down the mountain was significantly faster than scaling it had been. The conversation with Qui-Gon had resonated with Obi-Wan in a way he could perceive in the changes he felt within himself. It changed how the Force flowed through him. It changed how he thought about the opposition of light and dark. The very fabric of his foundations had been challenged, and now. . . Now he questioned.

Obi-Wan sat on an overhang of stone above a wide river at the foot of the mountain. The roaring sound of the waterfall far to his right created a pleasant song. Somewhere along his journey he'd stopped counting the days. After all, what were days in the Force? Nothing. _Days_ were a construct created by sentient beings to help them organise their lives by the passing of time. But a Coruscant day wasn't the same length as a day on Chandrilla. Yet both planets continued to rotate, and the biorhythms of the beings living on each world adjusted accordingly to their environment. The idea of a standard day being twenty-four hours simply didn't matter to beings who'd adapted to living on a world with a twenty hour rotational period.

The same could be said of a great many things.

Obi-Wan thought back to something Anakin once said to him; _A krait dragon doesn't care that when it eats the milk bantha it leaves a tribe without one of its major food sources. The Tuskens don't care that they rip families apart when they kill moisture farmers. The farmers don't care that they are doing the same when they retaliate against the Tuskens. I never saw the parallels until you showed those savages the same compassion you would show any core world being._

"But it's _more_ than simple parallels," Obi-Wan said the words out loud. "It's inherent nature. Base instinct. It's the living Force uncorrupted by sentient-created ideas."

On the other side of the river a family of uxibeast were drinking from the water's edge. A sense of danger reached out towards Obi-Wan, but the threat wasn't aimed at him. He noticed the sudden restlessness of the enormous uxibeast male, and when he turned his eyes towards the shadows cast by the drooping vine-leaves of the trees, he saw the reason for the patriarch's irritation. A felinoid of a species Obi-Wan didn't recognise slinked towards the uxibeasts, but stopped between the protective barrier of two tree trunks that had spiralled and fused together to create an arch. There it stood, yellow eyes focused as only a predator's could be, its patience unwavering.

"Take away the predator, and the entire ecosystem is thrown out of balance and destroyed," Obi-Wan mused in a whisper to himself. "The uxibeast would grow in numbers, raze the landscape of all vegetation, and then starve and start to die out. Life always seeks to balance itself. Life, death, too much of one eventually leads to too much of the other. Until the balance is found once more."

Obi-Wan sighed. Was it truly that simple? Could he really apply his observation about uxibeasts and felinoids to the Force? Light and dark?

 _Yes,_ he thought. _We overcomplicate it because we are complex beings capable of defying our very natures._

Obi-Wan rubbed a hand over his face and put those thoughts momentarily to rest. He placed the ancient lightsaber on the stone in front of him, and studied its intricate outer design work. The patterns up and down the hilt flowed, and made the cylinder resemble a piece of art more than a weapon.

Qui-Gon believed the blade would give him new wisdom, but on the way down the mountain Obi-Wan had been hesitant to look into its past. He was already beginning to challenge basic truths he'd been raised with, and somehow he knew that whatever insights the blade held would set off a quake deep within his core.

He recognised his hesitation for what it truly was; Fear brought on by uncertainty. But not allowing his fear to control him was one of the earliest lessons he'd learned. Without further fuss Obi-Wan closed his eyes and drew on the Force as he focused upon the hilt. Reading an object was different from reading a place. He'd once explained to the young knight, Boko Lan, that he could read past events that happened in a place, if he could fully root himself in its present. The same should have been true for the lightsaber, but Obi-Wan found it a struggle to look past the boundaries of _now_.

He opened his eyes and picked up the hilt. _Maybe my approach is wrong,_ he thought as he ran a thumb over the intricate design work. Obi-Wan reached out towards the mechanisms of the weapon through the Force. He found the power cell, and determined that it was at approximately sixty percent charge. He found the field conductor, and saw that it had zero imperfections. The vortex ring, the power insulator, and the energy gate were all a little primitive compared to the technology used in his own weapon, but there were no flaws in the craftsmanship. The energy channel, cycling field energisers, and energy modulation circuits were stable. The emitter matrix was perfectly insulated, as was the high energy flux aperture.

Obi-Wan turned his probing to the focusing crystal, to the heart of the blade. In the Force it sang, its gentle voice reaching out towards the Jedi Master. He closed his eyes, and listened.

There was a pull, as though the crystal was drawing him towards it. Obi-Wan didn't resist, and within his mind's eye a well-lit library formed. In front of him he saw a weather-beaten text constructed with actual papyrus.

" _You know, Oslin, I don't think I'll ever understand your fascination with these Sith demons. They are of darkness, what else is there to know?"_

" _You parade your own ignorance, my friend," Oslin said and closed the book in front of him. The human man looked up at the Twi'lek in front of him. "They are not all murderers suffering from psychopathy. Their code is not inherently evil."_

" _You sound like a sympathiser," the response was angry. "Was your last censure not enough to prove your errors in judgement? You will drive yourself to expulsion from the Jedi Order!"_

" _Kam'el, that is a burden I will gladly bear if it means absolution from perpetuating the cycle," Oslin said, voice serene._

" _You're far too calm about all of this," Kam'el sighed. "First you rescue that Sith on Hutta, and now you're learning their language? From where I'm standing it looks like you want to become one of them."_

" _Not at all," Oslin laughed. "I merely seek to understand their point of view. What better way to understand a culture, than by learning their language? You know, I have a theory about that."_

" _Yes, I know," Kam'el said, sounding exasperated. "You think the way we think changes based on the language we speak. Personally I think that's a load of chisz."_

" _You never were shy with your words, Kam'el," Oslin's grin could be heard in his voice._

" _And you hide your true thoughts behind an easy smile," Kam'el accused. "You are my oldest friend—stars alone knows why—so, please, be honest with me; Why are you going out of your way to secure old Sith texts?"_

" _Studying them is not forbidden."_

" _No, not yet," Kam'el conceded. "But with every Jedi that falls to the dark side—"_

" _I won't fall to the dark side, Kam'el, if that is what you're worried about."_

 _Kam'el was silent for a moment, then said, "I'm worried that you'll lose your way, that you'll lose the guiding light of a Jedi."_

" _That is the final problem, isn't it?" Oslin's voice turned speculative. "Light and dark. Dark and light."_

" _Final problem? What do you mean?"_

" _Should we not be striving for balance?"_

" _The light brings balance," Kam'el said, voice filled with immovable certainty. "There can be no balance in the dark."_

" _Is that what you truly believe?" Oslin's voice was quiet, interested. "Or do you believe that simply because that is what you were taught?"_

" _What is the difference, Oslin?" Kam'el sounded frustrated. "I've lived long enough to know that the suffering caused by the Sith is the farthest thing from balance."_

" _I don't disagree," Oslin said. "But can the same not be said of the Jedi? Our conflict with the Sith started many thousands of years ago, when the Je'daii splintered into two opposing factions. Don't you ever wonder what the galaxy would be like if these extremes didn't exist?"_

" _Extremes?"_

" _The Je'daii accepted the Force in its entirety, and strove to achieve balance within it," Oslin spoke slowly, as though contemplating his thoughts while speaking them. "They shunned neither the light, nor the dark. The Sith shun the light. The Jedi shun the dark. Would you not call that two extreme point of views?"_

" _You oversimplify it," Kam'el accused._

" _Perhaps," Oslin said. "But do you think the Sith would exist as they do today, if the Jedi weren't so intent on destroying them? Neither side accepts the Force in its entirety. How could balance ever exists when there is no acceptance of the whole?"_

" _And you think this is something you can 'fix'?" Kam'el scoffed._

" _Not alone, certainly," Oslin said, voice sober. "But if the Jedi continue as we are, eventually we won't even be allowed to have families."_

" _Your imagination is running away with you," Kam'el shook his head, an exasperated grin on his face. "Speaking of families, if I don't leave now I'll be late meeting my daughter at the dance house."_

" _You're still dragging her there?"_

" _Dancing improves footwork," Kam'el smirked. "She may not like the frills—it's not like she has to wear them—but I won't let her training be sub-par simply because she can't see the value in it yet." Kam'el's eyes widened as though realisation suddenly dawned on him. "Perhaps I ought to listen to my own wisdom. . . I. . . can appreciate that I am unable to see the value of what you're doing, Oslin," he said. "But. . . please, be careful."_

" _I will be," Oslin nodded, then watched as his friend left the library. He turned his attention back to the text in front of him, and continued deciphering the language._

Obi-Wan was with Oslin while he learned the Sith language. He saw how Oslin disagreed with the Jedi high council, earning more censure. He saw how Oslin spent his time meditating. He saw how Oslin tried to bring two opposing factions to common ground. He saw how Oslin studied languages of every new culture he came across. And he saw, again, how Oslin died in defence of the Tython temple, leaving his quest unfulfilled.

He surfaced from the vision hours later. Night had fallen and the only light came from one of Tython's moons. Obi-Wan regulated his breathing as he stood and stretched his limbs. He felt overwhelmed with what he had learned. Oslin's perspective reflected what Qui-Gon had made him realise within the cave;

The Jedi were out of balance, and with every passing year their disconnect became greater. They thought they served balance, believed it even, but their point of view was flawed and they were too set in their ways to _see_ it, too blinded by an arrogance they did not even know they possessed.

Obi-Wan saw it now.

He remembered how disgruntled Qui-Gon's inability to follow the Jedi code had often made him. He was but a padawan, raised to follow a strict set of rules, and Qui-Gon was a free spirit, bound by nothing but his sense of the Force. The maverick master's way had been the one nearest balance all along.

Yet in the broader view of the galaxy itself the balance was slanted starkly towards the dark. Obi-Wan remembered how clear, how _light_ , the Force had been when he was still a youngling learning and growing in the temple. And he remembered how, shortly before his fifteenth birthday, he'd woken in a cold sweat with a feeling of immense dread bombarding him. How Qui-Gon had struggled to calm him. _The Force is tainted, master!_ Obi-Wan had said, repeating the words while Qui-Gon tried to soothe his panic. The master himself had looked frazzled. The shift in the Force had been so sudden that every Force-sensitive being in the galaxy must have felt it. Since that night the shadow had been a persistent presence, growing steadily, obscuring more of the light with each passing day.

For balance to be achieved, first the light needed to gain strength. And then. . .

* * *

Anakin still remembered the first time he viewed Coruscant from space. At first it didn't seem real to him, like he was in a dream. He'd heard stories of great cities, but his imagination hadn't been able to supply an accurate depiction of something so grand in its design. Coruscant was one giant machine, and it was beautiful.

Now, he sat in the cockpit of his Corellian freighter in Coruscant's orbit, and tried to meditate. That's what Obi-Wan would do when faced with such a difficult decision, right? The only problem was that he wasn't having very much success. Each time he tried, each time he drew himself into the Force, all he felt was a creeping shadow that blocked out whatever insight was trying to reach him.

With a growl of frustration he stood up and kicked the nearby bulkhead. What point was there in meditation when he couldn't even keep a calm head? For the first time since he'd been trapped on Serenno, Anakin wished for Obi-Wan's presence.

But his former master was out of reach—he didn't even know where in the vast galaxy the man was—and he was out of time. Padme, was out of time.

"What should I do?" Anakin said out loud, as though the ship held the answers and would respond.

Silence. Only ever silence.

It wasn't just Padme in danger, it was their child as well. Palpatine said he'd use all the resources at his disposal as Chancellor of the Republic to help him find Padme, _if_ he betrayed everything that Padme had been working for since Naboo lost its sovereignty to occupation.

Would Padme forgive him if he saved her?

Could he forgive himself if he let her die?

Neither choice felt like the right one, but his own search for Padme had seen no success. What was he supposed to do?

The ship signalled an incoming transmission and Anakin startled like a wild nerf. His heart rate skyrocketed, little beads of sweat forming on his brow. He took a few deep breaths to try and calm himself. His time was up.

He flicked a switch and the blue holographic form of Sheev Palpatine, _Darth Sidious_ , appeared over the communications console.

" _Have you reached a decision, young Skywalker?_ " The Sith lord asked.

No, he hadn't. Still, he found himself saying, "I have."

" _And?_ "

Anakin took a deep breath. His chest felt as though it was being stabbed and torn to pieces.

"I will do as you ask," he said, breathless and pained. "Just please save Padme."

Anakin tried to convince himself that he was mistaken, that he didn't see the Chancellor's face morph into one of cruel satisfaction.

* * *

When Obi-Wan set eyes on the Tython temple again it was early morning. Soft pinks and golds were just beginning to crest over the eastern horizon. He'd travelled the entire night, choosing not to sleep, and instead made use of moving meditation. The crisp night air, the darkness, it helped him think, helped him immerse himself in the Force. He sought understanding, he sought direction, but still he was hesitant. He knew he needed to seek an understanding of the dark side, to learn how to see past it, to break through its unrelenting hold, but he did not know what the best approach would be.

 _The temple must have an archive,_ Obi-Wan thought. He did not seek out the council when he walked through the large temple doors, and he gave the early risers mere nods of greeting as they passed each other in the halls. Obi-Wan let his feet guide him as he traversed his way through the temple, until finally he arrived at an enormous chamber lined with towering shelves. He was both relieved and completely unsurprised to see Jocasta Nu tending a small alcove filled with holocrons.

She glanced up at his quiet approach, her stern face almost breaking into a smile as she said, "Master Kenobi. I was very glad to hear you'd survived and found your way back to us."

"Thank you, Master Nu," Obi-Wan said and gave her a respectful bow in greeting. "I wonder if you could help me."

"You've always been quite the academic," this time Jocasta did smile. "I'm surprised you haven't come sooner. What can I help you with?"

"The texts native to this temple," Obi-Wan started, a slight frown settling between his brows. "Is it possible to access them?"

"Certainly," Jocasta said. "It took us a time to understand the outdated encryption software, not to mention the older hardware, but everything that was in tact is now accessible and backed up to newer technology. There are some databanks that unfortunately did not survive, as well as some old papyrus texts that were unsalvageable. We've restored what we could. What are you looking for, Master Kenobi?"

"Anything referencing the Je'daii, as well as a Jedi named _Oslin_ ," Obi-Wan said.

"The Je'daii?" Jocasta frowned, but did not comment further. Instead she asked, "Are you referring to Oslin Bek?"

"You're familiar with him?" Obi-Wan didn't know why he was surprised. Jocasta must have spent the past two years meticulously combing through these lost archives. It must have brought her great joy to find them intact.

"Certainly," she said. "He caused quite a stir among the Jedi some four thousand years ago. But this is the first time you've set foot in these halls, so how is it that _you're_ familiar with him?"

Obi-Wan swung his cloak open and retrieved the ancient lightsaber from his side. He held it out to Jocasta, and when she took it her eyes held both wonder and confusion. "I recognise the design from the archival footage of Oslin, but the expected wear of time is absent on this lightsaber. Where did you get?"

Obi-Wan cleared his throat. He would have thought everyone would have heard about the odd Force event that had taken place outside the temple those many weeks ago. "It was brought to me through the Force," he said, and half regretted his vague choice of words when Master Nu's brows drew down into a frown. "I apologise. I still cannot explain how it happened."

"I heard a story about you fighting what some Jedi have been referring to as _phantoms_ ," she said. "Vaguely humanoid beings made of light and shadow."

"They were quite distinct to me," Obi-Wan said. "Zabrak, human, sith. . . And this lightsaber remained when that. . . when that event ended."

"Fascinating," Jocasta whispered as her eyes roamed the lightsaber's intricate design work. "Many Jedi have observed these phantoms, but no one has been able to determine what they are. I expect, in light of your own experience, they must be echoes of the past."

"That does seem likely," Obi-Wan said. "The Force _is_ uniquely strong on this planet."

"And uniquely dangerous," Jocasta said. Her eyes were a little wider than normal, the marks of age on her face a little deeper. Obi-Wan could feel her concern pulsing in the Force.

"You do not wish to remain here, on Tython," Obi-Wan observed.

"What _I_ want is moot, young Master Kenobi," Jocasta said. She grew quiet, contemplative, as her eyes drifted to the floor. Then, she looked up and met his eyes, and said, "The dark side is gaining strength. We all feel it. This _planet_ feels it. And the longer we remain here the more significant the danger to the Order becomes."

"The storms," Obi-Wan said.

"Yes," Jocasta echoed. "The more the balance shifts to the dark side, the more frequent and powerful Tython's storms become. We must leave, and you must convince the council of this."

"They would hardly listen to _me_ ," Obi-Wan said, startled by the suggestion.

"You achieved some of the highest diplomacy scores of any padawan in the history of the Order," Jocasta said. She drew back her shoulders into a rigid posture, as though scolding a youngling. She handed Oslin's lightsaber back to him. "And you obviously have achieved insight superior to what any of the masters currently sitting on the council have been able to acquire. They would be fools not to listen to you."

Obi-Wan stood and observed the stern woman with a frown. She seemed so certain he would be able to convince the council, but she had no idea of the thoughts that ran through his mind. Yes, he wanted to convince the Jedi to leave Tython, but did she realise he wanted them to leave the isolation of Tython to _fight_ for their place in the galaxy? Did she realise that the thoughts running through his mind were tied so closely to what Oslin had thought, and that what Obi-Wan felt was necessary was _heresy_ by the code of the modern Jedi Order?

But. . . he could no more back down from this than he could have backed down from facing Darth Maul after having seen him spear Qui-Gon.

"I will do what I can," he said.

Obi-Wan spent the greater part of that day sequestered in the archives, studying the basic tenets of Je'daii philosophy. It was revealing in a way that left him feeling as though his carefully arranged ideological structures had been smashed to pieces by a sledgehammer. And through this new lens he reflected on events in his life, interactions he'd had with people, and saw, that to some extent, he had begun to lean towards what the Je'daii viewed as balance even before he'd come to the conclusion that something was amiss with the Order.

 _There is no fear, there is power._

A simple line from an ancient code.

Obi-Wan never feared Djon Tarrek because he knew the man didn't hold any real power over him. He'd been cautious with his actions up until that night he'd shown the crime lord exactly how much _power_ he held over _him_. Obi-Wan hadn't thought twice about what he was doing. He was a Jedi and Tarrek committed blatant injustices. It was his prerogative, as a _Jedi_ , to act the way he had. And yet. . . when analysed from a different point of view. . . his actions against the man could be considered _dark_. Jedi exerted their will over beings when they felt it necessary—mind tricks, bound them with the Force—and never questioned the morality of what they were doing because it was all for _the greater good_.

 _There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

Such arrogance in seven little words. Hindsight was always ten times more enlightening, and Obi-Wan could only shake his head that the very first line of the Jedi code, shared with the first line of the ancient Je'daii code, had been _ignored_ when the Jedi sought to wipe the memory of the Sith from the galaxy. A thousand years previous, at the Ruusan Reformation, all knowledge of the Sith, all Sith artefacts, were declared a forbidden pursuit.

The Council of First Knowledge always had a small force of Jedi Knights working exclusively to uncover and retrieve such artefacts, so they could be destroyed or hidden away in the Jedi Temple's holocron vault. Obi-Wan had been sent on such a mission with Qui-Gon once. They had failed, and the tides of that particular planet would not allow another attempt at retrieving the artefacts from the depths of its seas for ten years. And ten years later Anakin was at his side when they successfully retrieved it. Obi-Wan saw the holocron sealed away within the vault, and never gave it a second thought.

It was a small, pyramid-shaped holocron, and it felt dark. That was the extent of his understanding of it.

Now, as Obi-Wan waited in front of the closed doors of the new—old—council chambers, he could scarcely believe how ignorant the Jedi had _chosen_ to become of the dark side.

Such blind arrogance.

The doors to the chamber slid open, revealing the wide chamber beyond. At Mace Windu's beckoning motion Obi-Wan stepped inside and walked towards the centre of the room. Truthfully, he would have preferred to speak to Master Yoda one-on-one first, but there would be great value in seeing how the council responded to what he had to say. Their reactions would be unfiltered.

"Master Kenobi," Mace Windu nodded his head in greeting, and Obi-Wan replied with a shallow bow. "Master Yoda tells us you went on a. . . pilgrimage, of sorts."

"Of a sort, yes," Obi-Wan said.

"And what have you learned?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked.

"A great many things," Obi-Wan said. "Much of which will offend this council's sensibilities."

A stir rose and fell throughout the chamber as the masters digested the prelude.

"Keep us not in suspense, Obi-Wan," Yoda said. To Obi-Wan's ears he sounded almost eager.

"Where to begin," Obi-Wan said quietly, almost to himself, as he stared at the floor. He took a deep breath and looked up, then said, "We have allowed ourselves to become ignorant, and in our ignorance an arrogance has taken root. We have failed to recognise that our attempts to eradicate even the memory of the dark side, has set us on a course to repeat the mistakes of the past."

"And what mistakes are those?" Mace Windu asked, voice and narrowed eyes a stern reminder of his imposing presence, and of the position he held on the council.

"I suppose the most glaring mistake the Jedi fail to correct is our point of view of the Force itself," Obi-Wan said. "We teach of balance, and yet we fail in a fundamental understanding of what balance in the Force means. We fail to understand that, in the Force, there is no division."

"Blasphemy."

The word was spoken lowly, with contempt, and it echoed across the chamber. Obi-Wan didn't consider who had uttered that one word of condemnation. He'd expected it.

"We are capable of complex thought," Obi-Wan said. "And so we search for deeper meaning, when sometimes, there is no deeper meaning. We form ideas, which we give names, and in doing so we give them power over us. The Force simply _is_ , and we, sentient beings, pervert it into what we _think_ it should be."

"Are you saying you don't believe the dark side exists?" Ki-Adi asked, voice neutral, but brows pinched.

"It exists," Obi-Wan said. "But it is not of the Force itself. It comes from us, from our intent which we then give shape through means of the Force. The Force is not a nursemaid, and it doesn't discriminate between what is good and what is evil. Those are, again, sentient ideas. That division exists within us. When our ideas become actions we affect the Force. When we deny parts of ourselves, we deny a part of the Force. We cause imbalance simply by shunning what nature intended for us. And we believe so _strongly_ the we are right, that we oppose anyone who believes differently. The ancient Je'daii strove to find balance _within_ , but when a small faction decided to favour a single part of themselves, another faction was born to oppose them. Opposition, the inability to accept that there isn't just _one_ point of view, gave rise to both the Jedi and the Sith. Our inability to find compromise, to find understanding, to find balance, led to so much bloodshed throughout the ages.

"And yet we hold ourselves above reproach because we think we are right," Obi-Wan took a breath. "We spend our lives seeking a greater understanding of the Force, but all we need to do to understand it is to observe _life_. There are no oppositions, no divisions, only cycles that, once they end, return to the beginning. It's when cycles are broken, denied, that imbalance is created."

"And yet the shadow of the dark side has never been stronger," Mace said. "It obscures our vision, weakens our connection to the Force. How can you claim divisions don't exist when it's so clear in front of us?"

"The shadow within the Force, is not _of_ the Force," Obi-Wan said. "And the reason we can't see past it is because a conscious choice has been made to shun the parts of ourselves that would give us an understanding of the shadow. As much as we teach that fear leads to the dark side, we _fear_ the dark side. We fear the darkest parts of ourselves, and instead of striving to understand it, so that it has no power over us, we attempt to lock it up.

"I believe that simple acceptance of all facets of ourselves leads to a deeper connection to the Force. Balance flows through all, and it's only lost once we're told we need to be a certain way. Some, like Qui-Gon, never lose the balance that exists within them. It's why, I believe, he so often stood outside the bounds of the council's views.

"He understood that the Force is all, and all are the Force."

Obi-Wan could sense how he'd unsettled the council. All except the ancient Grandmaster of the Order. Yoda appeared calm, both outward and within the Force.

"A similar understanding, you have achieved," Yoda said, nodding his head. "That is why you sense, what we cannot. That is why younglings sense the storms, when older, more experienced Jedi do not. That is why a padawan chases phantoms of the Force, when even sense their presence, we cannot."

Obi-Wan slowly nodded his head. If Yoda accepted his shortcomings, then, perhaps it was time to say the words he'd been leading towards. He squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and spoke in a calm, gentle tone.

"It's time for the Jedi to change."

Discontent echoed between the masters within the chamber, but no one spoke. They all turned their eyes to Yoda, and waited.

"Change," Yoda softly echoed the word as he scratched the underside of his chin. "What change do you suggest, Master Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan took another deep breath. He felt vastly uncomfortable in the role he'd been placed in. He'd grown up believing he would be a simple Jedi Knight, a guardian advocating peace in the galaxy—fighting for it when necessary—not a herald of institution altering change.

"Before. . . Well, before all this," Obi-Wan waved a hand in front of himself in a generalised motion. "Before Palpatine orchestrated his attack on the Jedi, we were already culturally absent from the galaxy. We keep to ourselves to such a degree that we've become disconnected from the very societies we serve. As Jedi we deny ourselves passions, but without passion we become apathetic. I can think of no better example than how we ignore the plight of slaves in the outer rim simply because they exist outside the Republic's purview. Yet, conversely, passion without peace to guide it leads to the madness of a man like Palpatine. One without the other ends in suffering.

"We must embrace the Force in its entirety," Obi-Wan said, thinking of Anakin. "Life cannot be denied its emotions. To accept serenity, but reject anger is to deny the realities of life, of oneself. It creates an imbalance that leads to self-destruction."

"What you suggest is radical," Mace said.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "But can we afford to stagnate? I feel I must also remind you that the Jedi Order has been disavowed. We are no longer part of the Republic, and perhaps that is a blessing." He swallowed, the implications parading across his thoughts as a string of possibilities. "Once Palpatine has been brought to justice, the Order can begin anew, and can correct the mistakes of the past."

"I will not stand for this heresy," Saesee Tiin said. He did not raise his voice, but his presence within the Force was as cold and rigid as a glacier. "Throughout the millennia the Jedi Order has grown to exclude factors that would lead us down a path of darkness. What you suggest is to return to a place of ignorance and spontaneity, to forget what we have learned, to regress."

"No," Obi-Wan said. "What I suggest is a path back to understanding, to balance, Master Tiin. Your failure to acknowledge the imbalance that exists within the Jedi is a symptom of the problem. With respect, master, ignorance and arrogance go hand-in-hand here."

"You speak of arrogance, yet you stand here before us, preaching. Why? Because you think the Force chose you? What is that, if not _your_ arrogance?"

"I did not ask for this," Obi-Wan said. "I have merely acted as the Force guided. And what I. . ." The image of his mother flashed across his mind's eye. "What I've learned is that there can be peace within emotion. A balance that accepts the emotion without allowing it to plant the roots of selfishness. I don't think the Force chose me for anything, Master Tiin. I think I have simply been. . . been broken down to my base nature, and that has allowed me to peer beyond the veil that so obscures the vision of the Jedi."

"You think you have greater insight than Master Yoda himself?" Adi Gallia asked. Her tone wasn't condescending, rather, it was curious.

"I don't th—"

"He does," Yoda interrupted. "Acknowledge this, we all must. Young, Obi-Wan may be. But a fool, he is not. Arrogant and deceitful, he has never been. Two years we've sat here, bickering about what best for the Jedi Order is. Unable to arrive at a consensus, we have been. But allow a dark lord of the Sith to destroy the Republic, we cannot. Even if no longer a part of it, we are."

"We cannot return until we can ensure the Order's safety," Mace reasoned.

"The Order is not safe on Tython," Obi-Wan said. "While the balance is slanted the storms will continue to get worse."

"Then balance must be restored," Mace sighed. He gave Obi-Wan a stern look and said, "What should be our first step?"

"The Alliance will help us, if we help them put an end to the galactic conflict," Obi-Wan said. "Once we reveal Palpatine's deception and betrayal of Republic values it should only be a matter of time until he's removed from power. Though we should expect the confrontation with him to be devastating."

"It will take some time to ready our ships," Ki-Adi said as he tugged at his beard. "But I am for returning to take our place in this galactic conflict. The immediate concern is the Sith. Once that has been dealt with, then we can be introspective about the Order's future."

Obi-Wan felt a deep respect for the Cerean master then. He watched as one after the other all the council masters nodded their agreement.

"Decided it is then," Yoda said. "Leave Tython, we will."


	16. Chapter 16

Posted 7/3/2019

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

16.

Yan Dooku stood atop a high catwalk, overlooking the procession of thousands of battle droids as they marched to their respective deployment vehicles. He'd long since lost count of the number of metal soldiers lost and newly constructed. The number mattered little, least of all when funds were near limitless and with factory worlds hidden so well in the outer rim—between the obscurity of Hutt and pirate controlled space, no less.

But it was lifeless, and sometimes made Dooku wonder how he could ever have seriously considered bringing the Republic to its knees. With every battle his droids won against the clone troopers he felt more disconnected from the whole. He knew the Separatists were gaining the upper hand in the conflict, and that should have instilled in his chest the thump of pride. Instead he felt hollow.

If he was neither Jedi nor Sith. . . then what was he?

When Obi-Wan Kenobi cut off his hand he'd felt a rippling rage deep within his bones. A hate so poisonous he could scarcely breathe. Then, in a single moment of perfect clarity, he saw _why_ he'd been defeated by a man whose experience barely stretched past infancy compared to his own.

Obi-Wan Kenobi served the Force. He'd thrown aside his Jedi-sworn obligations to the Republic Senate and answered the call of the Force. Simple. Elegant. It was a spark Dooku had long since convinced himself no longer existed within the Jedi Order. But it seemed then that something lost with Qui-Gon's death had been reborn within his padawan.

Dooku may have told Kenobi that he believed him to be a man capable of changing the Jedi Order, but not until after his defeat did he truly believe those words. And he found he felt shame for ever believing the Order incapable of the necessary change. Dooku had taken the cynic's route, betrayed himself in the process, and allowed a Sith lord to poison his mind.

With the loss of his hand came the wisdom he wished he'd had upon learning of the circumstances surrounding Qui-Gon's death. Perhaps, if he'd had that wisdom when Palpatine first approached him, then he wouldn't have succumbed to the Sith's promises of power, peace, and stability.

Darth Tyranus.

He scoffed at the name Darth Sidious had given him. That too, he had thrown aside once he recognised that Sidious' belief of the Force was flawed. The Jedi believed in seeking a greater understanding of the Force, Sidious believed that the Force was a tool to dominate others with, and Kenobi. . . It had been but a brief glimpse, but on Serenno he'd witnessed a moment in which his grandpadawan reached a point of perfect symbiosis with the Force. It showed Dooku that there was another way. A middle-ground. And if the Force could be so flexible, he realised that perhaps he should be as well.

He'd spent months re-evaluating his decisions, and meditated extensively on the events that led to those decisions. He could view the corruption within the Republic with new eyes, and found that the dark hand of the Sith was at play everywhere. It left him reeling.

How could he not have seen that the very thing he'd turned to the dark side for, eliminating a corrupt governing body, was caused by the very lineage he'd become a part of?

That realisation had led to another; He could not let Sidious' plan for a mock war come to fruition. The Republic would certainly be weakened and forced to change if Sidious' plans unfolded unperturbed, but Dooku had suddenly understood that Sidious' rule would be far from just. There would be no peace under his rule, only a farcical mask pretending to be peace.

The actual war did not reflect the theatre play Sidious had originally envisioned. Dooku knew the man was getting desperate, and felt a vague sense of satisfaction that he was the root of the cause. Yet, a feral animal was at its most dangerous when cornered, and Dooku had never been able to predict Sidious' moves. It was why he wished to unite his forces with the Alliance.

He knew he'd had no right to ask Anakin Skywalker for help, but this was not for his own gain, nor the gain of the CIS. This was about a single, urgent quest to remove Sheev Palpatine—Darth Sidious—from power as swiftly as possible. Before he lay ruin to the entire galaxy and the Force with his lust for power. But weeks had passed without an answer from Anakin Skywalker, and that was cause for concern.

Dooku sensed that a turning point was on the horizon, but felt he was still playing with only half a sabaac deck.

And he grew weary.

Baktoid craft hummed and droned below the catwalk as droids continued to load into transports. It was the single largest force he'd assembled to date, and he aimed to take Coruscant with it.

With or without Anakin Skywalker.

Still, he needed to be certain of where he stood in the galactic scope. Dooku unclipped a comlink from his belt and keyed in a code his cyber division spent weeks tracking down. He didn't have to wait long.

" _You've contacted me with an encrypted signal. Who is this?_ " The voice of Anakin Skywalker emanated from the small device. He sounded agitated to Dooku's ears. More agitated than a mysterious call should have made him.

"Usually one starts a conversation with a polite greeting," he replied.

" _Dooku,_ " Anakin's voice pitched oddly, a mixture of incredulity and anger. " _I don't have time for pleasantries._ "

"Good, neither do I," Dooku allowed a small grin to settle on his face. "Have you given my proposal any thought? The longer we delay, the more dire the situation becomes."

" _I have my own problems, I can't worry about yours now,_ " there was something else in the young man's voice this time. To Dooku's ears it sounded like mistrust.

"Something has changed," he observed.

" _Things change all the time,_ " came Skywalker's cryptic reply.

"Indeed," Dooku said. "But I sense it's caused indecision on your part. While I can certainly understand your hesitance, I must remind you of the stakes—"

" _I know what the stakes are,_ " the interruption was curt.

"Then enlighten me," Dooku commanded. "Because I fear we might be speaking past each other."

There was silence on the other end of the comlink. A beat passed, then two, then ten. The small blue light signifying an active call shone steadily. Dooku waited patiently for Skywalker to find words once more. And find them he did.

" _Someone took her. They took Padme,_ " he said. " _So even if I were inclined to help you, I couldn't. She's all I can think about right now. I have to find her._ "

The sentiment bored Dooku. He'd always thought the young man far too emotional. Too incapable of reason. When he'd held him captive on Serenno—something he deeply regretted now—the boy refused to read the dark side texts he gave him on the pretext that Master Obi-Wan would never condone it.

"I'm sure she wasn't your only contact within the Alliance," Dooku said. He was careful to keep his growing impatience out of his voice.

" _She's all that matters._ "

Dooku wanted to sigh, but he kept his composure. He knew there would be no reasoning with Anakin Skywalker. He was fiercely loyal, irrationally so, to the people he cared about. "Then perhaps I can help you find her," he said.

" _The Chancellor has already offered the full resources of the Republic to help me find her._ "

If Dooku were a less experienced man he would have missed the subtle inflection in Skywalker's voice. The minute change in pitch that suggested the young man believed himself trapped. Dooku doubted Skywalker even understood his own position. And that, more than anything, reminded him of the shrewdness of Sheev Palpatine. He wouldn't at all be surprised if the Chancellor was the one responsible for Padme Amidala's disappearance.

"He is manipulating you, Anakin," Dooku said, choosing to use an almost grandfatherly tone in the hopes that it would disabuse him of the notion that Sidious was his only option.

" _I know_ ," Anakin said. His voice was flat, as though he'd given up.

"Then let me help you," Dooku offered. His concern was far from genuine, but he knew the boy would not be forced.

" _No thanks. You're as much of a manipulator as he is. For all I know you're the one who took her_."

"Or perhaps Sidious took her," Dooku said without missing a beat.

" _Maybe. But his reach is farther than yours._ "

"You must not be keeping an eye on the war effort," Dooku said dispassionately.

" _I'm not talking about politics or war._ "

"Is that so. . ." Dooku trailed off. When Anakin didn't reply, he said, "Have a care, young Skywalker. Sidious _will_ betray you. It is only a matter of time. Once he has what he wants from you he'll throw you aside like a broken toy."

" _As long as Padme is safe, I don't care._ "

And with that Anakin Skywalker disconnected the call.

Dooku breathed a sigh at the idiocy of blind love. He put the foolishness out of his mind, and inserted a new code in his comlink. The time for relying on others had passed.

* * *

The passenger compartment of Bail Organa's Corellian freighter proved a tight squeeze for the number of Jedi commanded to return to Alderaan alongside the prince. Masters Windu and Mundi were holed up in the cockpit, taking turns carefully navigating the ship around the deep core's hazards. Obi-Wan didn't relish the thought of accidentally flying into a gravitational anomaly—plenty of those were scattered about the deep core—and was grateful that two masters experienced in such delicate means of space travel had taken the duty upon themselves.

Bail was resting on one of three bunks in the passenger compartment, the other two occupied by Ferus Olin and his spunky padawan. Both had argued against being given such privilege, but when Siri had put her foot down, or rather, raised an eyebrow at them, both had acquiesced and quietly retired. Obi-Wan had then accompanied her to the galley, where the two still sat huddled shoulder to shoulder, each with a cup of tea resting in front of them.

Artoo was conspicuously absent. _Likely in the cargo hold_ , Obi-Wan thought. Next to him, Siri sighed.

"Is everything all right?" Obi-Wan asked. He turned his head to the right to face Siri. Her eyes were focused on the empty teacup in front of her, her hands splayed upon her knees.

"I don't know," she said, raising one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "I'm worried about Ferus and Ahsoka, I suppose. I would have preferred they stay with the main migration."

"Your lineage is one of few that remains intact, Siri," Obi-Wan spoke softly, gently. "The three of you are to be ambassadors for the Order."

"Yes, I understand our duty going forward," Siri's voice came to life with a flare of annoyance. "What I don't understand is why Master Adi stayed behind. She's the head of this lineage."

"The ship is small," Obi-Wan reasoned. "Master Windu is the Master of the Order, so his inclusion is obvious. Master Mundi's mind works faster and more accurately than any other Jedi's, and his skills in diplomacy are second to none. Who should we have left behind to include her, Siri?"

Siri merely shook her head and said nothing.

"You're worried," Obi-Wan observed. "And it's not because Master Gallia isn't here."

"No," Siri admitted. "I have a bad feeling. That's all. And it's entirely indistinct."

"And that frustrates you," Obi-Wan knew Siri very well. She was a straightforward person, and had little patience for elaborate riddles. To her, the indistinct feelings granted by the unifying Force were distractions. She had never found comfort in them.

That's why Obi-Wan didn't confide in her that he'd had a bad feeling ever since they left Tython's star system. It felt like a swirling cloud of mist around his being, gathering thicker and thicker the closer they got to Republic space. The unifying Force rallied to him like armour, leaving him feeling that their heading was true, but also warning him that the path would be difficult.

Obi-Wan glanced again at the strong woman seated next to him, then took her left hand in his right. He squeezed lightly. "Don't centre on it," he said.

"I know I shouldn't," Siri said. "But something is different this time."

"How do you mean?" Obi-Wan dreaded the answer, near terrified that Siri's own perceptions would mirror his own.

"There's a sense of. . . finality. As if we're heading to a turning point, and nothing will be the same once we've gone past it," Siri's eyes were still fixed on the teacup in front of her, but a light frown now marred the skin between her brows with shallow lines.

Obi-Wan laced their fingers together and placed his other hand atop her forearm. She finally looked away from the cup and met his eyes. He could see the concern in her sky-coloured irises.

"We're rarely comfortable when things change," he gave her a gentle smile. "But it's as much a part of our lives as the simple act of breathing is. Change is what helps us grow. I can think of nothing more beautiful than seeing someone rise above the changes and challenges forced upon them by circumstance. The people will band together and rise above the Sith's rule, and we Jedi will rise above our imputed dogma and find our way back to true wisdom."

"How can you be so certain?" Siri asked.

"Because I can feel it," he said. "Whatever shift is about to occur. . . yes, it will have its hardships, but it will also be the start of something wonderful."

Obi-Wan could feel the coming storm as though he were a ship at the mercy of the waves. Violent winds would knock him around, but the end of the hurricane would leave calm waters. He tried not to let the unpredictability of what lay ahead hinder his mind and heart. Until future turned to present it was but a distraction.

Besides, the present moment was rather radiant.

Siri's frown slid off her face. A breathless, soundless laugh pulled at the corners of her mouth and shook her shoulders. She leaned the side of her face into Obi-Wan's shoulder. The moment settled into a quiet peace, and Obi-Wan tilted his head to rest his cheek against the top of Siri's head.

Minutes ticked by as they sat in comfortable silence. Then, as Obi-Wan gently stroked his thumb across the skin of her wrist, Siri broke the silence. "We don't do this," she said, her voice almost wistful.

"No," Obi-Wan said, but he didn't raise his head or let go of her hand.

"Do you really think we can find balance within emotion?" She kept her voice neutral, as though she didn't care one way or the other, but Obi-Wan could sense how deeply important his answer was to her.

"I don't only think it," he said. "I _believe_ it. We've simply forgotten how."

Siri pulled away from him and turned her body to face him fully. She briefly glanced down at their still clasped hands, then met his eyes again. "Then when this is over," she said, and for the first time in his life Obi-Wan struggled to decipher her expression. "We'll have to rediscover the way."

Obi-Wan slowly nodded his head in agreement. He didn't smile at her, and she didn't smile at him, but they understood one another. His heart soared, even as Siri stood and left the galley without a backwards glance. He could still feel the impression of her hand, and finally, he smiled to himself.

Just a little.

* * *

Alderaan was much as Obi-Wan remembered it from his brief visit. The orbital military station was still there, and so were the security protocols. There'd been a moment of trepidation when they relayed their landing codes. The voice on the other end of the comm had paused, but after a lengthy delay granted them clearance to enter the planet's atmosphere.

Within the bunker beneath snowy peaks, where Obi-Wan had first met the Alliance leadership, the Jedi were now gathered alongside Bail Organa.

"It's been nearly four months, Bail," Mon Mothma said by way of greeting. She stood tall, her figure at once elegant and imposing.

"Yes, well," Bail glanced around as though considering his words. "The situation was delicate, as we expected it would be. Let me introduce you to the Jedi who have travelled here with me."

Obi-Wan remained silent as Bail introduced the Jedi, starting with Mace Windu, then running down the line until he reached the bright-eyed Togruta padawan. They stood in a wide conference room, the table empty except for a few datapads strewn about. Mon Mothma held a great deal of tension, and Obi-Wan wondered at the cause. Well, aside from the little rebellion they had going, of course.

"Is everything all right?" He asked after Mon Mothma motioned for everyone to take a seat.

"The Alliance is losing what little ground we've managed to gain in the past year," Mon Mothma didn't beat around the bush. "Since Prince Organa left with Master Kenobi to find the Jedi, three among our leadership have met with _accidents_. A fourth has been missing for nearly three months."

"Who?" Bail asked, his cultured face pulling into lines of deep concern.

"Ister Paddie died when the Republic transport carrying her suffered catastrophic engine failure. It was reported as a maintenance error, but I don't for a moment believe it was anything less than sabotage. The investigating committee's lack of transparency only reinforces my belief. Lexi Dio and Ask Aak were both killed when they attended a peace summit that was disrupted by unknown terrorists," Mon Mothma spoke without a waver in her voice, but every Jedi present could sense the effect the losses had on her.

"And who is the missing fourth?" Bail rubbed a hand across his face. His eyes dropped to the floor, even as his brows lifted to wrinkle his brow.

"Padme Amidala," Mon Mothma said.

Obi-Wan's breath hitched at hearing that name. His chest felt as though it were being squeezed by the powerful claws of a rancor.

"As far as we can tell she was taken from her residence in Aldera. There were signs of struggle but we've found no leads as to her whereabouts," Mon Mothma finished with straight-backed poise that did little to disguise her inner turmoil.

Obi-Wan had but a single concern in that moment. "Where is Anakin Skywalker?" He asked, and ignored the eyes of the older Jedi that suddenly found his face.

"He has not been seen or heard from since he left to search for Padme," Mon Mothma said.

Obi-Wan leaned forward in his chair and rested his face in his hands. If what he'd witnessed between Anakin and Padme was what he thought it was, then he feared the young man's emotions would incite him to worse violence than he displayed against the Tuskens when his mother died.

 _I'm not good like you._

Anakin had accepted that part of himself. So it seemed. And that meant he would likely tear the galaxy apart looking for Padme. Obi-Wan could only accept his own fears and then part with them. Still, he held onto hope that Anakin had learned to see beyond his attachments, had learned the difference between attachment and selfless love.

"We can't help him now," Obi-Wan said as he straightened himself once more. "But we can help the Alliance. What do you suggest, Senator?"

"We haven't a leg to stand on," Mon Mothma said. "Our support is waning. Those who believed in the cause early on have allowed their fears to command their decisions. And. . . I cannot blame them. The war is tearing the Republic apart and no one wants to be on the losing side when the dust settles."

"There must be _something_ we can do," Obi-Wan said. "The Jedi are on their way back to Republic space. Bail and I didn't go through the trouble of finding and convincing them to take a stand in the conflict, only to falter now."

"We are here to help, Senator," Mace confirmed with a strong voice and determined face.

"Our contingency," Bail said and tapped his hand on the desk.

"They will label us conspiracy theorists, Bail," Mon Mothma said.

"Not if the Jedi stand with us," Bail argued.

"What is this contingency you speak of?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked.

"A holonet broadcast in which we reveal ourselves, our leadership to the galaxy. Put faces to the ideals, and show everyone that we are taking a stand against the corruption, the war, the senseless death and destruction. That we fight for the people, and that we will not stand for the violence first wrought on our peacekeepers. That we will not stand for the war's continual spread throughout the galaxy," Bail said. When he finished he was on his feet, his conviction thrumming clear in the Force.

From the corner of his eye Obi-Wan saw young Ahsoka Tano look upon Bail with an expression of admiration and determination. The energy of the man was certainly inspiring.

"I would not recommend such a course of action," Ki-Adi-Mundi said once Bail had taken his seat again. "At least not in the manner you suggest."

"What do you mean?" Mon Mothma asked.

"Our goal is to remove the Sith lord from power," Ki-Adi said. "To remove Sheev Palpatine from power. His deceptions will have a long-lasting effect on the Republic, and it will need strong leadership in the aftermath of his forceful removal. Your public personas must remain separate from this rebellion, lest it be interpreted as disloyalty and unpatriotic to the government you swore to serve."

"We cannot remain on the sidelines while this madness continues," Bail said.

"And you will not," Ki-Adi said. "But you _must_ remain anonymous."

"Then how are we to win the support of the people if we hide behind a mask?" Bail shook his head.

"By allowing someone else to be the public face," Ki-Adi said. "Someone who can claim the moral high ground, someone who truly has the galaxy's best interest at heart, and someone who will not vie for the power of leadership."

"A Jedi," Mon Mothma said, understanding the Jedi Master's point, but still not wholly convinced.

"Yes," Ki-Adi confirmed with a nod. "Specifically, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"What?" Obi-Wan said inelegantly. He cleared his throat when several pairs of amused eyes landed on him. "Forgive me, Master Mundi, but I doubt I'm qualified to. . . to lead a rebellion."

"Nonsense," Ki-Adi said. "You've always been an eloquent speaker and a sagacious diplomat. Recent events on Tython only strengthens my opinion."

"I. . ." Obi-Wan trailed off.

"You've come to view the world with unbiased eyes, Obi-Wan," Mace said. "If you can convince the entire Jedi High Council to re-evaluate itself, then you can certainly tell our story to the galaxy."

"Yet it still is not a burden we can force upon you," Ki-Adi added.

Obi-Wan tugged at his beard as he stared off into space, thinking. Yes, it would be a burden. It would be a burden to possibly become the most recognisable—most _wanted—_ man in the Republic. It would be a burden of responsibility so great that any failure on his part would mean eternal condemnation in the annals of history.

 _Histories will be written about you someday, Obi-Wan._

 _Oh I certainly hope not._

Had it always been inevitable?

His own story didn't matter to him. Obi-Wan cared little if he was remembered as a Jedi who helped bring peace to the galaxy, or ensured its decline, or even remembered at all, for that matter. It wasn't about him. It was about the people suffering under corrupt rule. It was about the worlds being torn asunder by the war, about the innocent sentients being displaced or killed. It was about putting an end to the Sith's hateful domination of not only the galaxy, but of the Force as well.

He didn't matter. The Force mattered. The peace of mind of parents and younglings mattered. Sentient lives free of oppressive burdens mattered. An end to senseless violence mattered.

Obi-Wan wasn't naïve enough to think he could affect any real change within the galaxy. Hutts would always trade in slaves and illegal goods. Their empires would always stand tall. Pirates would always pull ships from hyperspace with grav mines and steal cargo and kill passengers. Shrewd, greedy politicians would always find a way to manipulate a situation to their advantage.

But men like Bail Organa, women like Mon Mothma and Padme Amidala. . . they existed. There would always be beings in the galaxy fighting against slavery and piracy and corruption. It was a never-ending struggle, like the tug of war between day and night. It was balance.

It was the catalyst of growth, of wisdom. And now he was being asked to accept a visible role in the return to and continuing advancement of civil society. To help put an end to a war in which billions had already lost their lives in the crossfire.

Obi-Wan pushed all these thoughts away and focused only on the Force. It's answering call was definitive. He was meant to do this.

"I accept the responsibility," he said solemnly, hoping that their faith was not misplaced.

Obi-Wan cared not for the histories, but he didn't think he could bare failing an entire galaxy.

* * *

— _and by the time we discovered that Sheev Palpatine is the Sith lord responsible for the crisis on Naboo thirteen years ago, it was too late to form an adequate defence. The Jedi Order had but one option available to us; to go into hiding._

 _The assault on the Jedi Temple on Coruscant was unprovoked. We did not attack ourselves with baktoid manufactured droids to try and claim public sympathies, as has been reported. Deception and exaltation is not the Jedi way. But we understand now why that happened. Chancellor Palpatine, also known as the Sith lord Darth Sidious, had taken Count Dooku of Serenno as his apprentice. Dooku was a Jedi once, that is a fact we have no right to, nor do we wish to, disclaim. His departure from the Jedi Order was voluntary, and not an elaborate ruse by the Jedi High Council to one day seize the Republic's highest political power, as has been reported by Palpatine's administration._

 _It is no secret that the Jedi and Sith have always been enemies. All one needs to do to discover the violent history between the two factions is to talk to historians knowledgeable about the Old Republic. But where the Jedi have always sought peace, and a greater understanding of the Force, the Sith seek to dominate others through their power, and to dominate the Force itself._

 _Neither peace nor safety will you find beneath the ruling fist of a Sith lord._

 _I implore you all to re-evaluate what you know of this galactic conflict. It is a game of dejarik on a galactic scale, played by one man in an attempt to seize power over all. He sees us all as nothing but squares on a board he has yet to conquer, but for us the stakes are incomparable._

 _There can be no peace under tyranny._

 _The Jedi Order may no longer be a part of the Republic, but we still value and fight for peace. So that all beings in the galaxy may live their lives free of oppression. Whether they live on a Republic world, a neutral world, or a Confederate world._

 _Take a stand against the war. Take a stand against those clinging to power, those who benefit from protracted conflict. It will likely get worse before it gets better, but we can bring about the peace we desire if we're willing to fight for it._

 _Sheev Palpatine must answer for his crimes. The Jedi Order is returning now, not to seize power for ourselves, but to make sure that democratic rule can be restored._

 _We come to serve. We come to guide. We do not come to rule._

"Pretty words," Darth Sidious said as he stared out over the senatorial district on Coruscant. Anakin stood on the opposite side of the room, silent as stone. "I've always found Obi-Wan Kenobi terribly dull, but he seems quite charismatic in that little speech of his."

Anakin said nothing, fearing that his conflicted feelings would echo in his voice. He wasn't sure it even mattered. Palpatine—Sidious—could likely sense his inner struggle.

Outside chaos was ensuing. Clone troopers were gassing civilian protesters who had come out in vast numbers to convey their discontent at the Senate, at Palpatine, in light of the broadcast that hijacked the holonet. The first time the recording of Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi played had been mere hours ago, and it was repeating every thirty minutes. It hadn't taken long for the peaceful protests to turn into a riot. Fires blazed, and Coruscant emergency crews were out in full force to contain the damages.

Anakin wondered how many civilians had been killed so far. Reports were coming in that more riots were breaking out across the city planet's surface. Clones were being deployed as though they were attacking a Separatists world. It was martial law.

Palpatine walked to his desk and pressed a button on the comm. "Has the holonet breach been found and dealt with yet?" The Sith asked.

" _Not yet, Chancellor, but we think we're getting close to solving this problem_ ," said the voice of what Anakin assumed was a very nervous technician.

Palpatine furiously disconnected the call, then turned to face Anakin with a calm expression. "It's time we deal with these dissenters," he said. "Where is Obi-Wan Kenobi hiding?"

"I haven't seen him in months," Anakin said.

"Do not play games with me, young Skywalker," Sidious said in a strangely gentle voice. "I know you can make an educated guess. Perhaps you can even sense your old master."

Anakin swallowed thickly and shuffled his feet. "The deal was you help me find Padme and th—"

"I will find her, Anakin," Palpatine said. "She is dear to me as well. My best men are seeing to it as we speak, but I am powerless to speed up the process. Help me put an end to the treasonous poison of the Jedi, and then I can put my sole focus on finding your beloved Padme."

A small part of Anakin understood that Sidious was using Palpatine's face to manipulate him, knew that the Sith was preying on his feelings. He hated that he was being forced to choose between the woman he loved and the man who had only ever had his best interests at heart.

Anakin knew where Obi-Wan's transmission had originated from, of course. He'd immediately recognised the sterile walls and slender, curving bulkheads of the facility beneath the mountains near the city of Aldera.

He took a deep breath, and knew that he would hate himself no matter what he chose.

"They're on Alderaan," he said.

Anakin's only hope then was that Padme would forgive him. And that one day, he'd be able to forgive himself.

* * *

Obi-Wan lay flat on his back on the floor of the small guest quarters assigned to him. Bail had returned to Aldera, to his wife. Mon Mothma was likely hard at work somewhere else in the facility, with Ki-Adi-Mundi assisting her. Mace had taken a strange liking to young Ahsoka and Obi-Wan knew he had joined the Gallia lineage in a training room after morning meal.

Six days had passed since the broadcast first went out. Many had died in protests since. Coruscant saw the worst of it, but the civil violence wasn't limited to the core worlds. Obi-Wan pushed the heels of his hands to his eyes and sighed. He hadn't been naïve enough to think that protests would remain peaceful, but learning of the losses still weighed heavily on him.

Obi-Wan turned his head and looked at the small cube-shaped holocron sitting on the small desk near the sleepcouch. He called it towards him with the Force, and held it aloft above his chest. There it hung, rotating slowly as light reflected and refracted through the intricate matrix of blue crystal and gold alloy.

It was an old holocron. How old, Obi-Wan didn't know. Master Yoda hadn't said when he'd given it to him, and he hadn't asked, but he suspected that it dated back even farther than Oslin Bek. _Study it_ , Master Yoda had said. _Need it you will, I think._ Obi-Wan didn't know what to make of it. He'd opened the holocron several times, but didn't know if his own knowledge of the Force was advanced enough to utilise such a technique against the power wielded by Sidious, if it came to that.

He'd practised the technique in small scale on the kaiburr crystal that rested within his tunics. It sang when the blue glow of the Force enveloped it. But the crystal was a clear conduit of the Force itself. To subdue a being like Sidious. . . Obi-Wan suspected they needed Master Yoda himself.

 _Best not to dwell on it now,_ Obi-Wan thought as he floated the holocron back to sit on the desk. He then took the small crystal his mother had given him out from the insert pocket of his tunic, and clenched it in his fist. He focused on his breathing, dropped into a shallow meditation, and examined the path he'd taken in an effort to divine what he should do next.

Obi-Wan examined his feelings, and saw a deep regret buried within a hot anger. He didn't simply accept the emotions and release them into the Force the way he'd been taught as a youngling, and as he'd been operating his entire life. Instead he examined them in an effort to understand them.

He was angry at a great many things, he found. Angry that he'd been unable to save Qui-Gon. Angry that he'd been unable to protect Anakin. Angry that he'd been too slow and incompetent to learn what Tyro had so quickly discovered—that Palpatine is the Sith. Angry that he'd been unable to protect the Jedi Order.

Obi-Wan understood the root of his regret and anger. He got angry when he felt powerless, and felt regret when he inevitably failed. But he realised that the very notion was ridiculous. The idea of power was fleeting, meaningless. He had the Force, and he had but to listen to it and follow its promptings. Everything else was as it should be. If he felt powerless, if he felt regret, it was only because a kernel of thought existed in which he thought himself above the forces of existence. Obi-Wan understood and accepted his arrogance, his anger. They would not control him.

A perilous tremor in the unifying Force snapped Obi-Wan out of his meditation and into a sitting position. Wide-eyed he stared into nothingness as he felt the urgency pulse through him.

He understood almost immediately.

Obi-Wan flew to his feet and charged out the door. He sprinted down the hallways with enhanced speed, becoming but a blur to those he passed, and whipping up a wind in his wake. He let himself into the situation room without knocking, startling Mon Mothma. Ki-Adi-Mundi was already on his feet, having sensed the younger Jedi Master's parlous approach.

"What is it?" Ki-Adi asked.

Obi-Wan ignored the Cerean master's question, and faced Mon Mothma instead. "Give the evacuation order," he said gravely.

"For the entire facility?" She asked, confusion evident in her eyes and browline.

"Yes!" Obi-Wan said. He felt the Force's warning quicken and wondered if that was what animals felt when they sensed impending natural disasters. "Quickly, we haven't much time."

Mon Mothma gave the order without delay, and soon they were all boarding an airbus in the hangar.

"Leave that thing," Ferus said to a civilian woman, indicating the small, but advanced recording device she clutched in her hands.

"I am a journalist!" She said, indignant. "I would not ask you to leave your lightsaber, _sir_."

"Very well," Ferus sighed.

"Master," Ahsoka tugged at Ferus' cloak, and Obi-Wan couldn't help but notice the fearful way her eyes darted around. "Something's going to happen."

Obi-Wan glanced around at his Jedi peers, and found that all of them were now struggling to contain their reactions to the warnings in the Force.

With everyone aboard the large airbus exited the facility. They'd barely cleared the mountainside when the sky lit up with the lasers of an orbital strike.

"Star's end," Ki-Adi muttered under his breath as the blasts impacted the mountainside, destroying the surface and the facility beneath it. The resulting shockwave interrupted the airbus' electrical systems. All they could do was hold on as the pilot desperately tried to keep the vehicle safe as they careened towards the flats down below. The fresh snow lessened the severity of the impact, but no one came out of it unscathed.

Obi-Wan sported a bloody lip as he exited the broken bus. Mace Windu nursed an arm as he joined him. They watched a large shuttle descend from a star destroyer in orbit.

"Well, this isn't good," Obi-Wan said.

Mace ignored the strange levity and turned back to the beings in the vehicle. "Civilians stay here until emergency responders arrive," he said. "Jedi with me. Expect trouble."

The Jedi moved away from the transport and lined up to wait for the shuttle to land. Obi-Wan took note of the swarms of gunships descending towards the city, blocking off the emergency responders and creating a perimeter between the mountain and Aldera.

In his periphery Obi-Wan saw the journalist woman run for a nearby outcropping of rocks. Her black curls swayed in the wind and she held her device ready between her hands. She wore a look of fierce determination.

The Jedi Master shook his head and walked towards Ahsoka as the shuttle touched down He crouched down next to her, pointed and said, "Do you see that rock formation and the journalist poorly concealed behind them?"

"Yes master," she responded, voice and eyes serious.

"Good," Obi-Wan said. "That woman seems intent on risking her life. Stay with her, guard her. Can you do that?"

"Yes master," she said again. "But what if there's a fight?"

"Then protect the rash journalist," Obi-Wan said.

"But what if my master needs help?"

"Do as he says Ahsoka," Ferus said. "The journalist may be a blessing. I sense that whatever is about to happen will be important. We cannot let this event go by unnoticed by the galaxy at large. Even if it means I have to rejoin the Force."

"But master!"

"Please, Ahsoka," Ferus said.

The young Togruta scowled and loudly exhaled. The sound of the shuttle's ramp lowering startled her. She looked back to Ferus while Obi-Wan straightened himself to his full height once more and strode forward a few paces, drawing level with Mace Windu. "Ok master, I got it covered. But don't you dare get hurt," Ahsoka said, then darted off towards the rocks, where she quickly took up a defensive position near the journalist.

Obi-Wan wrapped the Force around him as he watched eighteen clone troopers leave the shuttle in two rows of nine. They split to the sides at the landing, weapons raised. Behind them two more figures strode down.

At the sight of Sheev Palpatine Obi-Wan felt nothing but a centred calm. But when Anakin Skywalker descended the ramp and took up position at Palpatine's elbow, his heart lurched to his throat and he suddenly found it difficult to swallow.

What disturbed Obi-Wan most, was that Anakin couldn't meet his eyes.


	17. Chapter 17

Posted 10/3/2019

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

17.

Obi-Wan's breath frosted in front of his face as he forced himself into a steady rhythm of inhale, then exhale. He could feel neither his ears nor his nose, and while his fingers were cold as well, with the Force he warded away the stiffness that usually settled in with such extreme loss of heat.

Across the snow-bedecked plateau Sheev Palpatine stood with his hands clasped in front of him, seemingly unaffected by the icy winds that whipped about them all. He wore a robe of a red so deep and dark it reminded Obi-Wan of the nightmarish bloodshed he'd experienced on war-torn worlds in the past.

A movement in Obi-Wan's periphery caught his eye, and he turned his head ever so slight to regard the Jedi beside him. Mace Windu had his head turned towards him, but his eyes remained firmly on the forces opposite them on the frigid field. His brow held a line of concentration, and around him the Force vibrated. Obi-Wan knew immediately that Mace was using his rare gift to look into the shatterpoints of the future.

"What do you see?" Obi-Wan asked, voice only loud enough for Mace to hear.

The Korun Master puffed a short sigh. "Four shatterpoints, and you are the centre point, my friend," he said.

Obi-Wan considered the statement. Mace Windu didn't perceive the future in a linear way. Instead, the shatterpoints he could view were but possibilities of what could occur when two points met. Except it sounded as if his actions would determine the course of what was to come, more than anyone else's.

"And the other three?" Obi-Wan asked. "Where are they focused?"

"Palpatine, Anakin, and Tachi," Mace said.

Obi-Wan's eyes briefly darted to Siri. She looked calm, poised, and ready for a fight. He turned his eyes back to Palpatine and Anakin, and watched them as they advanced towards the Jedi with measured steps. The line of clones advanced as well.

"Your broadcast was cleverly presented, Master Kenobi. Elegantly engineered to make the common citizen question their betters," Palpatine said, his voice nearly condescending.

"Their betters?" Obi-Wan's tone remained calm, but he was privately disgusted with how the man viewed his constituents.

"Of course," Palpatine said. "Just as a drove of banthas require a herdsman to keep them out of danger, so the citizens require a strong hand to keep them in line."

"Banthas allow themselves to be herded only because their trust has been earned," Obi-Wan countered. "A herdsman who breaks that primal trust gets trampled. Your exploitations are coming to light at last, S _upreme_ Chancellor Palpatine. Or do you prefer Darth Sidious?"

The dead-eyed smile on Palpatine's face finally dissipated into an ugly sneer. "I should have killed you after Naboo," he said. "Oh, how I desired to break you. But I allowed you to live because you served a purpose. And all was going as I had foreseen, right up until Dooku decided to use his _initiative_. I should have killed him for his idiocy. But, no matter. The oversights will be corrected today."

Obi-Wan didn't respond, and instead looked away from the Sith. His gaze fell on Anakin's form. The young man stood up straight, but still stared only at the snow, his brows drawn tightly together, his lips pushed closed in a rigid line.

"Anakin?" Obi-Wan prompted, but his voice only elicited a minute flinch. He could sense the young man's dread, his conflict. He tried again, "Anakin, he has no hold over you."

The satisfaction in Sidious' eyes at Anakin's persistent silence was mirrored in his self-assured little grin. Obi-Wan kept his breathing and expression calm, and waited. Next to him the other Jedi stood patiently, ready to draw their sabers at a moment's notice.

"There is a very simple way to bring a resolution to this matter," Sidious then said. "As in the Sith custom of the past millennium, master and apprentice shall duel. My orders to the Grand Army will adapt based on who emerges victorious."

"This isn't a game," Mace Windu said, his tone a reflection of his aggressive determination.

"You can refuse to play, of course," Sidious said. "But then the standing order is to rout out all dissenters on Alderaan. The loss of life will be. . . regrettable."

The threat was implicit.

Obi-Wan looked once more at Anakin—his face was pulled into a grimace reminiscent of physical pain—then turned to face Mace. "We may not have a choice here," he said quietly. "Alderaan is peaceful. They have no weapons. It will be a slaughter, and I cannot in good conscience allow that happen."

"This is insanity," Siri said from his other side. Obi-Wan agreed, but knew that Sidious could not be reasoned with.

He walked forward then, only ten paces, but the distance was enough to separate him out from the other Jedi. Anakin hadn't yet moved. Even at that distance Obi-Wan was able to see the way the young man's adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed. He turned his eyes back on Sidious.

"You say your orders will adapt based on who wins," Obi-Wan said. "Adapt how?"

"That would be telling," Sidious said.

"I've already agreed to play your little game, Sidious," Obi-Wan said. "You may as well reveal your intentions."

"Perhaps," the Sith said. "But a surprise ending would be so much more exciting, don't you think?"

"I care little for clever plot twists when the stakes are so high," Obi-Wan opened his cloak and dropped it from his shoulders. "Your army is poised to strike the city, and I care only about saving lives."

"Even at the expense of your own?" Sidious asked.

"Of course," Obi-Wan answered immediately, conviction firm.

Sidious seemed to regard him. There was a savage glint in his eyes, as though he were sizing up his prey and deciding how best to kill it.

"Should you fall, Master Kenobi, I will leave the city in tact," Sidious finally said.

 _But not the Jedi_ , Obi-Wan thought. Never the Jedi. Sidious was too cunning and too driven by hatred, ambition, and vengeance to let the Jedi live to fight another day. Obi-Wan glanced back at Mace Windu. The Master of the Order gave him a solemn nod.

"And if Anakin should fall?" Obi-Wan asked, again trying to meet his former apprentice's eyes, but to no avail.

"Then I imagine I will have the pleasure of killing you myself," Sidious said. "And, sadly, his death would also mean that his wife and unborn child will be left without their greatest protector."

"And the people of Alderaan?" Obi-Wan asked, ignoring the significant, but not truly surprising, revelation.

"They will submit to my rule, or be made an example of."

"What?" Anakin said, finally breaking his silence as his head snapped up to face Sidious.

The Sith turned to face him. "Don't sound so surprised, young Anakin," he said. "Alderaan shelters terrorists. Would you allow such an offence to go unpunished?"

"Is that what we call people fighting for their freedom now? Terrorists?" Anakin's face grew incensed.

"Save your anger for the coming duel," Sidious said. "Padme's life may well depend on your survival."

Anakin faltered. Obi-Wan could feel how the reminder of Padme's safety clouded the young man's mind. If he believed in spells he would say that Anakin had been bewitched, but the Force made it clear that there was no magic or mind-trickery involved. Anakin was simply so attached to Padme Amidala, so overwhelmed with fear for her well-being, that clarity of thought completely escaped him. He did not _want_ to think of anything but her safe return.

"Sidious is preying on Skywalker's instability," Mace said from behind. He spoke softly and Obi-Wan barely caught what he was saying. "He's counting on him tapping into the dark side to defeat you, and if he kills you in that state it would likely cement Sidious' domination over him. Anakin is too powerful in the Force for us to allow that to happen, Obi-Wan."

"I can reach him," Obi-Wan answered. He wasn't at all confident that he could break through Anakin's turmoil, but he knew he had to. He knew the old maxim, _there is no try,_ had never been more applicable in his life than in that moment. There was so much at stake, and Obi-Wan knew that losses were inevitable. It churned his stomach to think that in the broader scope of the conflict before him, of the galaxy in its entirety, he would likely have to allow certain sacrifices to occur.

"Obi-Wan," Mace said, solemn once more. The Master of the Order understood the gravity of the situation as well as Obi-Wan did. "You may have to kill him."

"I know," Obi-Wan said, yet the very idea crippled him.

He watched as Anakin shed his synthleather coat and step forward. The young man still could not meet his eyes.

Sidious' voice cut through the cold air then. "Shall we get on with it?" He asked with a pleasant tone, as though inviting them for tea. Still flanking him, the clones stood with their rifles raised to their chests, ready to fire at a moment's notice.

Obi-Wan settled himself within the flow of the Force and unclipped his lightsaber from his side. He left the second hilt, the one that once belonged to a Tythonian Jedi named Oslin Bek, clipped in its place on the right side of his belt. Across from him Anakin took hold of his own blade and ignited it. Finally, the young man met his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Obi-Wan," he said, voice strong, and while he wore a mask of determination, his eyes remained conflicted.

"I know," Obi-Wan said with sympathetic acceptance, then ignited his own blade.

The duel began when Anakin charged forward. Obi-Wan stood his ground, waiting for the onslaught. He was calm, Anakin was not. The first strike was a powerful downward strike, a signature Djem So attack. Instead of raising his blade to block the strike Obi-Wan stepped away and parried Anakin's blade to the side, throwing the young man immediately off balance. Obi-Wan then kicked Anakin in his midsection with enough force to throw him off his feet and send him skidding across the snowy plateau.

"You'll have to do better than that," Sidious sneered at the young man.

Anakin stood up angrily and didn't even brush the snow out of his dark clothing before charging Obi-Wan once more. This time Anakin's attacks were driven less by power, and more by finesse. He struck fast, using his footwork to try and manoeuvre around Obi-Wan's defences, but the Jedi Master was like a leaf in a wind, adapting to the motions with ease.

"Use your anger!" Sidious' voice carried a trace of suggestion within the Force.

"Don't listen to him, Anakin," Obi-Wan said as their blades crashed together. "Don't let him manipulate you. Ignore his dark commands!"

His words fell on deaf ears. He recognised the look in Anakin's eyes. It was a similar loss of focus he'd seen in his blue depths on Tatooine. Obi-Wan knew, from the subtle shift he felt in the Force, from the taint that seeped into the plenum, that Sidious was bending Anakin's mind with clever subtlety.

He wasn't fighting Anakin. He was fighting Sidious' control over the young man. Sidious had very carefully inserted his claws into Anakin's mind, and Obi-Wan knew he would have to break that control if he had any chance of getting through to Anakin.

Obi-Wan also knew that the Jedi word of surrender, _solah_ , would not work as it had on Tatooine.

Anakin continued his relentless assault. His blade work was forceful, bordering on erratic sometimes. His footwork was aggressive, and soon he began incorporating the more motion-driven combat style of Ataru as well. His attempts to break through Obi-Wan's defensive form was futile, however. The Jedi Master was simply too adept at standing his ground. He was as immovable as the mountain they stood on.

Obi-Wan waited out the storm. He knew sooner or later Anakin would make a mistake, and that moment was upon him quicker than he thought it would be. Which, in itself, was a sign of how unbalanced Anakin was in the present moment. The young man leaped at him with a clear intent to maim, to kill. The downward sweep of his blade would have cut Obi-Wan in two if the Jedi Master hadn't, at the last moment, ducked and rolled beneath Anakin's airborne form.

Anakin landed on the snow with a skid that cost him his balance. His back was completely exposed to his former master. Obi-Wan, who after his roll had leapt back to his feet with the grace of a dancer, could have easily severed his spine with even the simplest Shii-Cho horizontal strike.

But Obi-Wan couldn't, wouldn't, deliver a killing blow to the young man he'd, for the longest time, viewed as something between son and brother. Not when he still believed that Anakin's actions were more the result of Sidious' ministration than his own will. The young man was a slave again, and Obi-Wan wished to free him.

Obi-Wan took his left hand off his saber hilt and shoved his arm forward, channelling the Force and pushing Anakin face first into the snow. He came to a skidding halt at the feet of Mace Windu.

"Pathetic," Sidious muttered, but his voice was carried by the wind to be heard by Obi-Wan.

That was the only warning the Jedi Master received before agony ripped through his body. Facing Anakin, his back to Sidious, he never saw the Sith move. The Force hadn't warned him either, too clouded, perhaps, by Sidious himself. The sensation was familiar, and Obi-Wan knew that Sith-lightning was coursing through his being. It was far more potent than Dooku's had been.

Obi-Wan tried to resist, tried to draw it in and redirect it the way he had with Dooku, but the pain was overwhelming and blinded his senses. Then, he was lifted off his feet and thrown to the side. The lightning stopped its angry stabs moments before he impacted the snow, shoulder first. He came to a skidding halt many meters away from where he'd started, and struggled to catch his breath, to still his shaking limbs. His eyes teared up, and the hand holding his lightsaber seized into a painful, white-knuckled clench around the hilt. For a moment he thought his heart might simply give out.

A low, pained groan escaped Obi-Wan as he managed to push himself to his knees.

"Music to my ears," Sidious said. "I trust you can now finish him off, young Skywalker."

The sound of four lightsabers igniting travelled through the icy mountain air. Half blind still with pain and tears, Obi-Wan found his feet and held up a hand. "Stay your blades," he rasped.

"The Sith is obviously not playing fair, Obi-Wan," Siri said loud enough to be heard over the suddenly gusting wind.

"What, in life, is ever fair?" Obi-Wan grinned, still trying to catch his breath. He slowly approached Anakin with his blade raised. The young man was looking back at Sidious with an unreadable expression. When he turned his eyes back to Obi-Wan the Jedi Master could see the vacancy in them. Obi-Wan looked at Sidious, saw the satisfied, cruel little smirk on the man's face, and knew the Sith's hold over Anakin had tightened further.

Obi-Wan took his stance, and waited.

Anakin charged and his assaults began anew. Powerful sweeps mixed with quick, darting blade work pushed Obi-Wan's defences to their limits in his severely weakened state. The strikes he blocked shocked his abused nerves, causing tremors to ripple down his arms and into his neck. One strike almost slipped past his defences, searing his sleeve with a burnt line, but did not meet flesh.

 _There is no try_ , Obi-Wan vehemently reminded himself. _I am one with the Force!_

With a burst of Force-born energy Obi-Wan shifted his stance and went on the offensive. His blade swung in quick, tight arcs, challenging the younger man's speed as well as intuition. It proved too much for Anakin to handle against the experienced Jedi Master, and with a carefully aimed strike Obi-Wan severed the tip of the emitter matrix on Anakin's weapon. The heated plasma of his blade scattered as the negatively charged field dissipated and lost control of the volatile energy. The superheated particles flew in every direction, and before fizzling out some made contact with clothing and skin, leaving painful, but not incapacitating burns.

Obi-Wan managed to ward the worst of it away from himself with his own blade, but Anakin wasn't so lucky. A jet of plasma nearly speared him in the eye, but he managed to turn away in time to avoid the grievous injury. Instead the heat carved an angry vertical line beside his eye from cheek to brow. More sparks hit him on his hands, another struck his clothes, which set them on fire. Anakin dove into the snow and rolled to snuff out the flames before it could further feed on his synthleather wear.

Out of breath Obi-Wan dropped to his knees and simply watched the young man roll in the snow. His movements were frantic, eyes wide, as though the snow itself was burning him. But when Obi-Wan looked at him through the lens of the Force he realised that Anakin's mind was far from the present moment. It was as though he were caught in a terrible vision.

The screaming noise of ion engines filled the plateau. Instead of turning to the sound to see who or what was approaching, Obi-Wan shifted his gaze to Sidious. He wasn't sure if he could block the Sith lord's dark assaults, but he was unwilling to be caught so off guard again.

Anakin appeared to come back to himself just as an unidentified starship touched down behind the Jedi. Obi-Wan saw Sidious stare at the ship with a sneer that pulled the Sith's face into a grotesque mask of malice. He chanced a glance at the ship and saw its rounded, elongated hull. It looked like something one of the insectoid species might have designed.

Mace Windu and Ki-Adi-Mundi stood facing the Sith, weapons still drawn and ignited. Siri and Ferus stood facing the new arrivals.

The boarding ramp lowered and down strode Yan Dooku with Padme Amidala at his side.

"Padme?" Anakin said. Then he screamed her name, "Padme!"

"I'm all right!" She yelled to be heard across the wide plateau.

From where Obi-Wan still sat on his knees he could see the rounded curve of her belly. She seemed fine, except for a small bruise on her cheek. Obi-Wan's eyes strayed over to Dooku, and he wondered why the man was here, what he'd been up to, why he chose to land his ship with the Jedi and not the Sith. So many questions. No time to ask them. No time to find the ends of a thousand lines of thought.

"Darth Tyranus," Sidious said.

Dooku seemed to almost bristle at the name. "I have abandoned that name, as you well know, Darth Sidious," he said, his deep, aristocratic voice easily carried across the distance.

"Yes," Sidious said. "Your change of heart was most vexing, _Count_. Decades of planning jeopardised because of weak sentimentality. Had I known you'd turn out to be so fickle and effete I would never have placed my confidence in you."

"More's the pity," Dooku mocked with an ironic tilt of his brow. "I must say I quite enjoy tearing down your carefully laid plans. It's ironic that the only Sith left in the galaxy has abandoned the true calling of his Order."

"You know not of what you speak," Sidious growled.

"You've grown too fond of the political arena," Dooku accused.

"A means to an end," Sidious said.

"Of course," Dooku said, tone once more mocking.

The two stared one another down.

"If only you'd seen what I'd seen," Dooku said. "Perhaps you would have realised why you would never win this galactic game of dejarik."

"And why is that?" Sidious said. "Why don't you enlighten me with your _wisdom_."

Dooku glanced at Obi-Wan with a half-smile, then turned back to face Sidious. "When a man loses his sight, his other senses sharpen to compensate," Dooku said cryptically. "My grandpadawan stripped me of my pride, and he could not have given me a greater gift. Through him I saw the Force as it should be, and it is far from what the Sith make it."

"Foolish sentiment," Sidious said. "I have an entire army at my back and you think you have the upper hand because of a Jedi outlier? Their Order's dogma is the very reason the Sith lived among them unnoticed until we _decided_ to reveal ourselves. You were foolish to come here, Dooku. Your death will be the end of your droid rebellion, and the Republic will be under _my_ complete control. I will conquer the Separatist worlds and my Empire will last until the stars burn themselves out and plunge the galaxy into everlasting darkness. The dark side will _always_ win."

From his periphery Obi-Wan saw one of the clones fractionally lower his weapon. He recognised the blue markings on the soldier's armour, and wondered if it was the same man who'd nearly killed him on Coruscant, the same man who let him escape on Obroa-Skai. But then the clone's weapon was raised and ready once more, and Obi-Wan put the thought out of his mind.

"Padme!" Anakin said again. He was still crouched on the snow near Obi-Wan. The woman in question had strayed nearer the Jedi, hesitant to advance in the face of the rifles pointed their way. She and Anakin had silently regarded one another while Sidious and Dooku conversed. "Who took you?"

The question almost struck Obi-Wan as odd, but he knew he didn't have all the information. He didn't know what lies had been fed to Anakin. What he did know was that Anakin's allegiance orbited around Padme Amidala.

"Jango Fett!" Padme yelled across the field.

"You really should have used someone else to capture her, Sidious," Dooku said. "Fett was entirely too easy for me to track down, considering the dealings I had with him in the past."

"Who's to say you weren't the one to give him the order to kidnap her?" Sidious replied. "After all, you and Fett have quite the history together, don't you?"

Obi-Wan could sense Anakin's indecision growing. He knew the young man couldn't differentiate between the lies. Both the old men had proven themselves deceivers and liars to the young man in the past. How was he to know who spoke the truth now, especially when both men were so adept at using the Force to obscure their intentions.

"We know what Palpatine is," Padme said. Her compassion for Anakin was clearly visible in the Force. She was trying to lift the burden of his bewilderment. "And we know that Dooku is far from a saint. But Anakin, he did save me. And Fett did admit that Dooku wasn't the one who gave the order. I'm no Jedi, but I know he wasn't lying to me."

"Enough!" Sidious growled. The Force amassed around him in tainted tendrils. In response Dooku ignited his lightsaber.

The blade burned the same vibrant green that Qui-Gon Jinn's had.

"You liar!" Anakin screamed at Sidious.

"Kill them all!" Sidious commanded the clones.

As one the clones began firing on the Jedi. Dooku charged in front of Padme to guard her, while Mace and Ki-Adi provided further cover for them as they made their way towards the outcropping of grey stone. Siri and Ferus stood their ground, but the blaster bolts came faster.

"Head for cover," Siri commanded her former padawan. He obeyed instantly and began his retreat while his master provided the deflections necessary to clear his way.

In the same moment Obi-Wan unclipped Oslin Bek's lightsaber from his side and tossed it to Anakin. The young man caught it, but when he ignited it he froze. Noticing the hesitation, as well as the blaster bolts heading straight for Anakin, Obi-Wan leaped in front of him and began arcing his blade to deflect the superheated plasma away from them both.

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan said loudly, urgently. The Force was swirling strangely around the young man, but Obi-Wan couldn't turn to look at what was happening. The soldiers were firing persistently at them. All but one, Obi-Wan had time to notice. The blue-marked soldier was firing at the thick stones behind which Padme Amidala now sat hidden.

 _Odd_ , Obi-Wan thought. But any thoughts on the strangeness of that one clone's behaviour fled from Obi-Wan's mind when he saw Sidious draw something from his sleeve. The red blade that ignited drew the focus of his gaze even as he continued to deflect blaster fire.

"Anakin!" Obi-Wan said again, urgency flaring to breaking point.

There was no response.

Eyes still on the red blade Obi-Wan could feel that Anakin hadn't moved, and that the Force was still converging strangely on him.

Sidious began moving, his speed unnatural, augmented with the Force. For Obi-Wan, time slowed. His eyes tracked the Sith while his blade continued its arcing motions to deflect the barrage of repeating blaster fire. He saw Sidious' running line and little thought was needed to draw a conclusion on where he was heading.

Obi-Wan's heart stuttered.

If he moved to intercept the Sith, Anakin would be left defenceless. Anakin would get riddled with blaster fire and die. Of that there was no doubt. It was clear the young man was far from lucid, likely in the throes of a vision as vivid as his own on Tython had been.

 _No_ , was the only thought that crossed Obi-Wan's mind as he stood his ground and protected Anakin. He could do nothing but watch as Sidious speared his blade through Siri Tachi's chest.

"Siri!" Obi-Wan screamed as he felt Siri fade into the Force.

Sidious retracted his blade, and Siri fell forward, lifeless.

"No!" Obi-Wan screamed, the single syllable word dragged out until Obi-Wan's voice cracked, faltered, and faded. His shock culminated in a single slip of his defences, and a blaster bolt struck him in the right thigh.

He felt the pressure of the wound, but there was no pain. In that moment, no injury could outstrip the pain his heart was in.

"Hold your fire!" One of the clones yelled the command with an insistent and authoritative voice. They obeyed immediately.

Mace Windu took the opportunity to charge forward and engage Sidious in a duel.

"I don't. . ." Anakin said.

Obi-Wan could sense that Anakin was with them once more, but he could no longer pay his former padawan any mind. He rushed to Siri's side as fast as his injured leg would allow, and when he reached her he fell to his knees.

She lay face down in the snow. The back of her tunics showcased a dark burn in line with her heart.

Gently, and with shaking hands, Obi-Wan turned her to lay on her back. A matching burn on the front of her tunics confirmed that there was no way she could have survived the strike. But Obi-Wan had already known that. He'd felt the exact moment of her passing into the Force. Tears came unbidden to his eyes, but they did not fall. He felt as if he might be dying as well.

Obi-Wan pushed his arm beneath Siri's shoulders, supported her head in the crook of his elbow, and gently cradled her to his chest. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

The sound of lightsabers clashing reached his ears, but Obi-Wan couldn't bring himself to pay attention to it.

Not until Mace Windu slid into his peripheral vision, with tendrils of Sith-lightning clinging to his form, did Obi-Wan come back to the urgency around him. He looked at Siri's restful face. She was so beautiful. He turned his head away and saw that Anakin was now duelling the dark lord of the Sith.

He heard Mace Windu groan in agony, but it was drowned out by his own rising fury. His hurt was giving way to rage.

It gave Obi-Wan a strange clarity. He watched on as Anakin met the Sith blow for blow. There was something different about his former Padawan. He fought with a calm, controlled wrath. There was a change in the young man, as if the lightsaber he now wielded afforded him some wisdom that completely changed his outlook. And if that were the case, Obi-Wan was hardly surprised. Maybe Anakin's soul resonated with the heart of the blade's original owner.

Then Sidious elegantly sliced off Anakin's saber hand.

The Sith followed his crippling attack up with a Force shove that sent Anakin careening across the snow banks. Then he calmly turned towards the clones.

"Why did you give the ceasefire command, captain?" He asked in a deadly voice.

The clone captain made a bunch of hand signals to his peers, and as one they pointed their blasters at Sidious and began shuffling towards the Jedi.

"Is this your attempt at revolt, captain?"

"Well, sir," the clone said as he carefully skirted the field to join his brothers. "You see, they say we're bred to follow orders, but we're also bred to use initiative, and to trust our instincts. That's what sets us apart from droids. My instincts tell me you're not the compassionate leader we were led to believe, that you're a threat."

Sidious looked amused, and Obi-Wan's rage grew.

The sound of snow crunching reached through Obi-Wan's fury, and he turned to see Ferus Olin crouch down on Siri's other side. The young knight swallowed thickly, his expression dazed. Obi-Wan could sense the younger man's pain, and how he was trying to push it aside.

"I've always found it interesting how heartless Jedi appear when one of their own is killed," Sidious' voice echoed towards them. "Even now that young man is attempting to push his emotions away. But you, Obi-Wan Kenobi, I can feel your anger rising."

Obi-Wan gently lowered Siri back to the ground.

"Give in to your rage, Master Kenobi," Sidious taunted.

"Master," Ferus said, voice thick. "Don't."

"You loved her, didn't you?" Sidious continued. "Isn't love forbidden for a Jedi? I always thought you were the perfect example of your Order, Master Kenobi. All vacant peace and control. No passion, no heart. Perfectly crafted in the dull image of Yoda's lineage. Complacent and blind to the failings of the Jedi. But you. . . You managed to kill Darth Maul. A perfect Sith apprentice. And I asked myself _how_? How is it that such an uninteresting specimen could best _my_ apprentice. And now I understand. It's because you have the _rage_ that make the Sith so powerful. Give in to you anger, Kenobi. Give in, and come strike me down."

Obi-Wan could feel his rage fester, could feel the way Sidious infused his words with dark taints that attempted to exert influence over Obi-Wan's control. For a brief moment he wanted to let go and allow the rage to rule him. But Tython had taught him that it was all right to feel these emotions. The rage was a part of him, it was all right, as long as he didn't let it command his actions.

He turned his head towards the Sith, and pushed himself to his feet.

"Obi-Wan," Mace warned.

"It's all right," Obi-Wan said calmly.

He walked toward Sidious, and came to a stop some distance away. He accepted his pain, his rage, his fear, his love, his loss, and he felt the Force in every cell of his body. Both rage and serenity permeated him at once, and his senses opened to a part of the Force he'd never felt before. Never, because he'd never been open to the Force in its entirety until that moment. He'd never before accepted all parts of himself. Not until that moment, where the woman he loved lay dead at his feet, and her killer attempted to goad him into vengeance.

"I'm stronger than you could ever hope to be, Sidious," Obi-Wan said, voice strong, without a hint of struggle in its timbre.

"Amusing delusions. Has Jedi arrogance truly grown to such enormity?" Sidious said, then he hissed, "Allow me to return you to humility."

Obi-Wan didn't flinch when Sidious raised both his hands and sent arcing Sith-lightning streaking towards him. He calmly raised his left hand and halted the attack's progress. It struck and bounced off the invisible Force shield Obi-Wan effortlessly held in place. He closed his eyes, amazed at the power he could feel flow through him, amazed at the power the Force could bestow on a single being if they but reached a point of understanding themselves, the world around them, and their place within it.

Obi-Wan knew he was insignificant. He was nothing. A single star in a galaxy of trillions. A galaxy that had undergone countless cycles of change before he'd even been born, and would undergo countless more after his death. He accepted his powerless nature, and somehow, that made him stronger than he ever thought possible.

Sidious ceased his attack, and for the first time looked uncertain. He became enraged, and sent another streak of foul lightning towards the Jedi Master.

The result was the same.

Sidious faltered, then started moving towards his shuttle. He turned tail and started running.

Obi-Wan would have stopped him, but he sensed he wouldn't need to.

Some meters away Anakin stood, nursing the stump of his right arm. He looked at Obi-Wan with a mingled expression of understanding, acceptance, and determination. Obi-Wan could feel the same swell of power in Anakin as he'd experienced in himself, and he watched on calmly as Anakin stretched out his left hand and halted Sidious movements with a simple, but powerful command of the Force.

Sidious struggled and bore down his dark side powers on the grip that held him, but his efforts were futile.

"It is done, Sidious," Obi-Wan said.

"It will _never_ be done!" Sidious hissed.

Obi-Wan looked to Anakin. The young man stood resolute, but regarded Obi-Wan carefully.

"Your call," Anakin said.

Obi-Wan nodded. "Don't let go," he said.

Mace Windu walked up next to Obi-Wan. He clutched his ribs and breathed hard. "We can't let him live," he said. "He's too dangerous."

"Not for long," Obi-Wan said in a strangely calm voice. He raised both hands towards the Sith and channelled the Force. A shimmer appeared around Sidious' form, and every Force-sensitive being present could feel the way the Sith's presence responded. As the shimmer grew into a bright blue light that enveloped his form, his presence in the Force receded. _Did Yoda give me that holocron because he'd foreseen this moment?_ Obi-Wan wondered.

"What are you doing?" Sidious screeched, voice sounding panicked.

As Anakin held the Sith in place Obi-Wan meticulously constructed a barrier of Force energies within Sidious cells, a wall of light that urged the midichlorians to desert their host. When it was done he signalled for Anakin to let go.

Sidious dropped to his knees, looking lost and frightened. "What have you done?" He asked. "What have you done!"

"I severed your connection to the Force. It's an ancient Jedi technique," Obi-Wan said calmly. "Your death serves no one, but you will answer for your crimes before the Senate."

"I _am_ the Senate!" He screeched.

Obi-Wan turned away to face the smaller outcropping of rock. With obvious tear tracks down her face, young Ahsoka stood with her lightsaber activated and raised defensively in front of the journalist. The rock formation sported scorch marks where blaster fire had hit and been deflected to. The journalist looked shaken, but was still recording the scenes before her.

"Did you get that, lady journalist?" Obi-Wan asked.

Her eyes briefly dropped to the device display. She then gave him a wobbly thumbs-up, and said, "I got it all, Master Jedi!"

Sidious appeared to lose something of his remaining sanity then. He ignited his blade and ran towards Obi-Wan with a rage burning deep in his eyes. The Sith no longer had the power to stand toe to toe with any Jedi, but his skill with a blade wasn't so tightly tied to his Force prowess. Obi-Wan parried and blocked each slow strike, and waited for Sidious to tire himself out.

Breathing hard, Sidious backed away. Humiliated, he turned toward the clone captain. " _You!_ " he growled and charged.

Obi-Wan frowned, knowing what was coming, but did not feel any prompt to stop it. No Jedi there did.

The captain raised his blaster pistols and fired three times before the Sith could close the distance and strike him with his red blade. Without the aid of the Force Sidious could not deflect the plasma aside. He was struck three times in the chest. The red blade disappeared into its hilt as Sidious fell backwards into the snow, yellow eyes staring into nothing.

The plateau was silent. Only the howling of the wind and the blaring of distant sirens remained.

Then;

"That'll be cause to decommission me," the clone captain said casually, shrugging his shoulders. "Relay orders to the ground troops to withdraw until we receive new orders. I likely just caused a bureaucratic nightmare."

There was a brief moment of awkward silence before his clone brothers started laughing, then they moved to carry out their captain's orders.

Anakin clutched his stump to his chest and ran straight towards Padme, who quickly pulled him into an embrace.

Ferus walked over to Ahsoka, and held her as she cried. His own silent tears tracked down his face.

Mace Windu, grimacing and nursing and arm, conversed quietly with Ki-Adi-Mundi as they surveyed the field. The two Jedi Masters were likely attempting to come up with a strategy on how to deal with the massive fallout to come.

Obi-Wan headed over to where he'd dropped his cloak. He stooped to pick it up, then limped towards where Siri still lay, far from the strangely jubilant clones, far from the other Jedi. With his back to the crowd behind him Obi-Wan gently lay his cloak over Siri's form.

"We are luminous beings," he whispered to himself as he softly ran the back of his hand over her cold cheek. He could no longer stop the tears. "Not this. . . this gross matter."


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: We've reached the final chapter. The last three chapters of this story were difficult to write, at times. There were so many ways I could have ended this. I changed my mind so many times, right up until the day I wrote chapter 17. In every version that bounced around inside my head, however, Siri didn't make it. It was an important moment for Obi-Wan's character, and I wanted it to mirror, in a way, what happened in the legends novels. I forgot which novel it was, but at one point Anakin asks Obi-Wan what he thinks he's destined for, and Obi-Wan responds with, "Infinite sadness." And he was smiling when he said it. That's one of the things I admire so about Obi-Wan Kenobi's character; He never gives in to despair. He feels it, accepts it without letting it change him for the worse, and then he moves forward. It's arguably the most contrasting element between the characters of Obi-Wan and Anakin, how differently the two of them react to loss.

Posted 12/3/2019

* * *

RESOLVE III

* * *

18.

The following weeks were difficult, not just for those who'd been involved in the plateau top battle, but for the entire Galactic Republic. Once news hit that Supreme Chancellor Palpatine was dead all Confederacy forces mysteriously withdrew from the worlds they occupied. Further riots broke out on once peaceful streets, leaving the Judicial forces overwhelmed and under great pressure. Some wanted justice for what they viewed as Sheev Palpatine's murder, while others celebrated the end of his reign.

It wasn't until Staesi Polan's footage hit the holonet that rational conversation could begin again.

The uncensored battle was shown in its entirety. At times the footage was shaky, narrated by Polan with a whispered voice that grew terrified as events unfolded. She was quickly lauded for her bravery under such dire circumstances, and for her persistence in making sure the galaxy received a transparent view of what occurred.

That didn't mean the galaxy wasn't in an uproar.

Despite the reveal of Palpatine's duplicitous nature, the Republic quickly grew frightened of the clones that had turned on their Chancellor. The Grand Army of the Republic, however, paid little attention to the political fearmongering. Instead, under the command of clone commanders and forward thinking generals, they maintained a passive stance while the politicians decided what was next.

It was a mess.

Obi-Wan wondered what pitfalls remained for them to navigate through. He sat in the gardens of the Aldera royal palace. Next to him sat an old man who had once tried very hard to kill him.

"You know, it never crossed my mind that Sidious was capable of such rash action," Dooku said. "From the moment I met him he struck me as an individual who patiently waits for, or creates the precise opportunity required to succeed. I imagine I forced his hand a bit too hard."

"Did you always intend to oppose him?" Obi-Wan asked.

"No," Dooku sighed. "I wanted to learn from him, use the knowledge to bring about the changes in the galaxy that I thought necessary. I thought pursuing dark side knowledge was the only way to achieve that. Even as a padawan I was intrigued by the dark side of the Force, with the power it brings. I took young Skywalker on Korriban because I was certain he shared the same fascination."

"And did he?" Obi-Wan asked. Anakin still hadn't told him very much about that time. His cheek twitched at the thought that he was sitting next to Dooku, having a civil conversation, as though they were old friends. A rueful smile almost made it to his face. How things change. . .

"He did, but it made him very uncomfortable," Dooku said. "I think you might not entirely appreciate how that boy looks up to you."

Obi-Wan didn't respond.

"I can see why he holds you in such high esteem. You made me realise something, Obi-Wan," Dooku flexed his robotic hand. "It is not the dark side that makes us powerful. It is our own conviction. Through you, the balance I sensed within you during our battle, I discovered how flawed my point of view was. You brought me my greatest defeat, my greatest shame, and the most valuable lesson I will ever learn."

"Did I really change your mind so quickly?" Obi-Wan remained sceptical. If Dooku spoke the truth, that meant he'd been fighting against Sidious since that day on Serenno, nearly three years previous.

"You did," Dooku said. "For a time I continued to follow through with Sidious' commands, but only so I could seize absolute control of the droid armies. That involved quite a bit of political manoeuvring, as you can imagine. I had to ensure that the Confederacy's leadership escaped Sidious' radar before I could attempt to turn the tables. Unfortunately Sidious caught wind of what I was doing, and in response attacked the Jedi, fearing that I would reveal his identity to you and set you against him before he was ready. He could have withdrawn into hiding, as his Sith lineage before him had done, but I imagine his own hubris demanded that _he_ be the one to end the Jedi."

"He very nearly did," Obi-Wan said. "We are, quite frankly, an endangered species."

"You will rebuild," Dooku said with a nod of certainty.

"And you?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I led a droid army that actively attacked the Republic," Dooku raised his brows. "I don't imagine many places would welcome me."

"I don't know," Obi-Wan tugged at his beard. "To me it sounds like you fought a war on the basis of simply preventing a Sith lord from gaining control over the entire galaxy. Palpatine no longer has his secrets. Perhaps that means leniency for you."

"Leniency?" Dooku chuckled. "Do you truly believe I deserve such a thing?"

"You're not the same man who bitterly left the Jedi Order after Qui-Gon's death," Obi-Wan sighed. "You're not the same man who was fuelled by his own darkness."

"And if I were to become that man again?"

Obi-Wan allowed a cheeky grin to settle on his face. "Then I would have naively believed you to be a wise man, Master Dooku."

" _Master_ ," Dooku scoffed. "You are a far wiser man than I, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Obi-Wan's grin faltered as nostalgia briefly overtook him. Qui-Gon had said those exact words to him once. On Naboo.

"You are, perhaps, the definitive reason we discovered the Sith plot at all."

"Not by design, I assure you," Dooku said.

Obi-Wan burst into laughter. "No," he said. "I suppose not."

"Strange," Dooku said softly. "How the paths converge."

Obi-Wan knew what Dooku meant. There could have been any number of outcomes in the flow of their lives. One single choice not made could have brought them to an entirely different conclusion. How it all could have been different, and yet there they were.

"Perhaps not so strange after all," Obi-Wan said softly.

A young Jedi hesitantly walked up to them. Obi-Wan gave the boy a reassuring smile as he approached. The migration from Tython had arrived twelve days previous, and Alderaan had offered them temporary refuge.

"Master Kenobi," the boy said once he came to a stop in front of him. He gave Dooku a wary glance as he spoke. "Master Yoda sent me to get you. Prince Organa has just scheduled a meeting with the High Council, and they've requested your presence."

"Thank you, padawan," Obi-Wan said. "I'm on my way."

The boy bowed and scampered off again, throwing another wary glance over his shoulder before he turned the corner.

Dooku laughed. "I've always had that effect on the young ones," he said. "Except for Qui-Gon. He seemed immune to any kind of intimidation."

"He must have kept you on your toes," Obi-Wan said as he stood. "I always wondered what he was like as a padawan."

"Stories for another occasion," Dooku said. "Best not to keep them waiting."

Obi-Wan bowed, and felt as uncomfortable doing it as Dooku looked to be receiving such respect. But he'd decided he wouldn't let history and old prejudices dictate his behaviour towards the old man. He had changed, Dooku had changed, the galaxy had changed. What point was there in keeping grudges? It would be like bringing poison to his lips and hoping the other person died. No, Obi-Wan had grown beyond such ignorance.

He was almost at the entrance to the palace when Dooku's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Obi-Wan," he said, voice oddly subdued. "I'm truly sorry for your loss."

And just like that the pain flared in his heart once more. When he was keeping busy it was so easy to forget that she wasn't simply occupied with her own duties. So easy to forget that he would never share a meal with her again, that he would never sit shoulder to shoulder with her again. Or hold her hand. . .

Obi-Wan swallowed thickly, and quickly turned away when he failed in keeping the pain from appearing on his face.

* * *

The door to the large meeting room within the Aldera palace, normally used by the governing body of Alderaan, was a broad durasteel panel inlaid with the crest of house Organa. The golden colours glimmered in the midday light.

Obi-Wan paused at the door, and stood there for a long moment, thinking of nothing, but seeing only another reminder of. . .

He shook his head and waved a hand in front of the door's motion sensor. It slid open to reveal the Jedi High Council already seated around a large circular table. Bail Organa and a number of other Republic officials were also seated around the table, and suddenly Obi-Wan wondered why he'd been summoned.

"Welcome, Master Kenobi," Bail said. "Please take a seat."

Obi-Wan stood his ground. "I was told the council requested my presence," he said and glanced towards Master Yoda. Whatever it was, he hoped it would be quick. He was suddenly overcome with the need to both move and meditate, and wished to retreat to a secluded spot in the surrounding forests to practice his Alchaka meditations.

"Forgive the lack of formal ceremony, Master Kenobi," Mace said. "The council is in agreement. We wish to grant you a seat among us."

Obi-Wan inclined his head by a few degrees, half stunned. He swallowed and glanced around the room, at the eyes of the Jedi seated there, wondering if they truly had been in agreement. On Tython he certainly had offended some of the masters' sensibilities with his, according to them, heretical point of view.

For a moment he wished to decline the seat, but waved the idea aside as soon as it presented itself. Despite his recent struggles he knew he still maintained his strong views on the Force and the direction of the Jedi, and if the council was willing to give him a vote on the future of the Jedi, then he would be remiss not to take advantage of the platform.

"Very well," he said, and sat down in the open seat next to Ki-Adi-Mundi.

"Now that we're all accounted for," Bail said once everyone had settled. "I have good news. Mass Amedda and the rest of Palpatine's inner circle have been arrested for conspiring to commit treason. The Senate has elected a committee to oversee the seat of the Chancellor until formal elections can be held."

"Who forms this committee?" Ki-Adi asked.

"The Senators from Mon Cala, Sullust, Chandrilla, Kashyyyk, and myself," Bail said. "Due to Coruscant's current instability it's been decided to move all governmental dealings to Chandrilla for the time being. I will be leaving for the system tomorrow. As a first order of business I will discuss the Jedi Order. Which is why I've called for this meeting. With Palpatine's agenda revealed it should only be a formality, but certain political procedures will need to be observed before the Jedi Order can rejoin the Repub—"

"No."

Bail glanced at Obi-Wan in surprise. All eyes settled on the Jedi Master who had interrupted the prince with a cultured, but firm voice.

"We cannot become mired in politics again," Obi-Wan said. "We cannot again become beholden to a political institution, only to lose sight once more of the fact that the Jedi Order serves the Force, first and foremost."

"Think of the implications, Obi-Wan," Mace urged as his brows drew down into a frown.

"I am, Master Windu," he said. "After the Ruusan Reformation the Jedi Order crippled itself because it gave itself over to the rule of the Senate. In the last thousand years we have ignored the cries of those in need because the bureaucrats told us we couldn't intervene. Why? Because corporations gained too much political pull. We ignored entire worlds in need because interfering would have had negative impacts on profit margins. It's what allowed the Sith to gain a foothold without us even being aware of their presence."

"That may not be an entirely fair assessment, Master Kenobi," Adi Gallia said.

Obi-Wan regarded her carefully. Stoic as she presented herself, he could feel the pain she also still carried.

"I was too young, too inexperienced at the time to understand what it meant," Obi-Wan said. "But at thirteen years old my master left me on a war torn world because I wanted to help them, because I could feel how the Force called for me to help them, and my master's response was that the Republic doesn't interfere in native problems. That it wasn't our responsibility. We can't help everyone, I understand that. But when we have the ability to bring peace to a war-stricken world we have the responsibility to do so. Binding ourselves to the laws of a democratic body that can be corrupted by greed and even darker vices, as we have seen, is foolish. We will simply again fall into the trap of complacency, thus once again ignoring the will of the Force."

"Even if we become a neutral entity, we cannot simply interfere wherever we see injustices occurring," Ki-Adi reasoned. "We would be labelled as invaders, tyrants. How would we know where to draw the line?"

"Through the collective wisdom of this council," Obi-Wan said. "I imagine it won't be much different from how we've operated under the Republic flag. The difference being that the requests won't be going through the Senate, but straight to us. Political and financial agendas will have no bearing on us carrying out our duties as peacekeepers."

"The Republic may not be comfortable with such a separation, Master Kenobi," Bail said. His fingers tapped the stylus lying in front of him, a tick displaying his unease. "While I will support the Jedi Order in either case, the general public may find it unsettling if such powerful individuals go unchecked. The entire Republic is now aware of the power a Jedi is capable of wielding. You're no longer fairy tales and myths in the eyes of most."

"We can put those fears to rest by the same means other neutral systems do," Obi-Wan said. "The Mandalorian ambassador has had a seat in the Senate for years, but he has no political power within the Republic. He is there as a means to keep the lines of communication between the two governments open."

"A Jedi ambassador in the Senate?" Bail asked.

"We are quite good at ambassadorial duties," Obi-Wan raised his brows, half a grin appearing on his face. "And throughout the Republic's long history the Jedi have always been allied with it. I don't see that changing unless the Republic itself ceases to function."

Bail nodded his head and brought a finger to his chin. His eyes dropped to the table as he considered the implications. At the ensuing silence he raised his brows and glanced up at the rest of the Jedi. "No one else has anything to add?"

At the continuing silence Obi-Wan leaned back in his seat and interlaced his fingers. He shook his head and failed in controlling the muscles of his face as a small, ironic little smile carved dimples into his cheeks. "I think they may be regretting giving me a seat on the council, Bail."

Bail chuckled and shook his head. "You certainly know how to cause a stir Obi-Wan," he said.

Obi-Wan shrugged one shoulder and turned his gaze to Master Yoda. The old Jedi sat with his eyes closed, head slowly nodding, as though he were listening intently to a conversation only he could hear. Next to him Master Windu sat with a finger against his lips, eyes fixed on the surface of the large table, deep in thought as well. Eventually he sat up straight and dropped his hand to his lap. Turning to Master Yoda, he asked, "What do you think?"

Yoda opened his eyes and for a long moment simply looked at Obi-Wan. Then, "Bold Master Kenobi has become. Not without reason. Seen much he has, both within the Order, and without. Clear around him the Force is. His insights ignore, we cannot. But much to think about we have."

"Yes," Mace said. "Such as where the Order would establish itself if we are no longer part of the Republic. We cannot live on Alderaan as refugees indefinitely. Master Yoda is right. This is not something we can solve before Prince Organa has to leave for Chandrilla."

"Certainly," Obi-Wan said. "But there are a number of worlds that belonged to the Jedi long before the Order first became part of the Republic. Ossus comes to mind. It was once home to the Order. It could be again if the Republic agrees to give it back to us."

"Hm," Yoda grunted. "Meditate on this we will. For now, Prince Organa, discuss these possibilities with the ruling committee you must. Uncertain the future of the Jedi Order still is."

"It will be done, Master Yoda," Bail said.

* * *

Nightfall on Alderaan brought with it an icy wind. Ferus shuddered. It reminded him too much of the plateau, the snow, the ice in his veins upon seeing, feeling, the Sith. It reminded him of the frigid stab he'd felt in his mind and heart when his master was so brutally struck down.

He should have disobeyed her.

" _Head for cover._ "

Why didn't he disobey her?

For once in his life why didn't he go against her commands? Maybe he could have saved her. But even as those thoughts entered his mind he knew it was pointless to dwell on them. The only thing that remained within his power was to learn from his previous decisions, from the consequences of those decisions.

Master Kenobi had disobeyed the entire council when he'd rushed off to Serenno to save Anakin. His master had done the same thing when she charged off, with him in tow of course, to assist.

Ferus found himself near one of the fountains in the palace gardens. He sighed and walked past it. He still had so much to learn.

The sound of splashing water grew quieter as Ferus passed deeper into the gardens. He followed the path into deeper brush. He could almost believe he was in a forest, were it not for the beautifully cobbled path beneath his feet.

"Is it wrong to love my master?"

Ferus stopped in his tracks. He would recognise the voice of his padawan among a crowd of hundreds.

"It's never wrong to love someone."

Ferus recognised the second voice as well. The soft-spoken tones of Obi-Wan Kenobi was hard to miss.

"But we're taught that attachment is forbidden."

He felt uncomfortable, standing there eavesdropping, but his padawan was asking questions he needed answers to as well. Ferus stayed, and listened.

"Attachment and love are not the same," Obi-Wan said. "Attachment bypasses rational thought and constrains our decisions to selfish desires. Love, by contrast, is completely selfless. It frees us from the trappings of self. It might sound simple, but in practice. . . well. . . attachment is easy, and love is. . . love is very difficult."

"So. . ." Ahsoka dragged the word out as she considered her words. "It's ok for me to love my master, as long as I don't make selfish decisions for his or my benefit, when it would hurt someone else?"

"In essence, yes," Obi-Wan said. "It's a trifle more complicated than that, but it's not really something than can be taught, Ahsoka. It's something shaped through the wisdom of experience, and that's why love is so difficult."

Ferus swallowed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. Master Kenobi was speaking to Ahsoka with such gentleness. He'd never heard him speak like that. His voice was calm, but beneath that he could hear the pain the man didn't bother to hide.

"You loved her, didn't you?" Ahsoka asked softly.

"Yes," Obi-Wan's voice was almost too soft for Ferus to hear.

"Do you think the hurt will ever go away?"

"In time," Obi-Wan said. "Being able to feel the Force makes it easier, I suppose. She's there, waiting for us to someday join her. That gives me hope, and it turns the pain into something bearable."

"So it's ok to allow ourselves to feel such pain?"

"Feeling pain, and understanding it is vital. The same is true for all our emotions. There can be no balance without understanding. And it begins within, by understanding both the lightest and darkest parts of ourselves."

"Is that why you were so angry, but didn't rip Palpatine's face off?"

Ferus didn't expect the burst of laughter that echoed towards him. He didn't think he'd hear Master Obi-Wan laugh for a long time to come.

"Yes Ahsoka," Obi-Wan said, struggling to stifle the joyous spasms. "That control was hard-earned, I assure you."

"I think Master Siri would have been proud of you," Ahsoka said. She didn't sound sad any more.

"I think so too," Obi-Wan said, voice sounding lighter than Ferus had heard it in weeks.

As he left them to their conversation Ferus opened himself to the Force. He could feel it wash over him as he examined his own pain. And then he felt a light brush against his senses, so slight he thought he might have imagined it, and he could almost hear his master teasingly say, " _You're far too much like Obi-Wan was at that age. Stop brooding, padawan._ "

Ferus smiled.

* * *

The private ward of the Aldera Royal Medcenter was bathed in bright light. The sterile walls were tinted with a forest green so pale it was near white. Obi-Wan followed the corridor to the room the nursing staff had pointed out to him. He stopped in the threshold, leaned against the doorway with crossed arms, and watched Anakin and Padme as they conversed quietly.

They looked happy.

Obi-Wan smiled at that, and decided to wait until they noticed him. The two were huddled side by side on the same bed. Anakin was resting his flesh hand on Padme's pregnant belly, while her hand rested atop his. Every few seconds she would move his hand and then, a moment later, laughter would escape Anakin.

"I told you," Padme giggled into Anakin's shoulder. "Somehow they just _know_ where the hand is, and that's where they kick."

"They?" Obi-Wan blurted, surprised.

"Hey!" Anakin said as he leaped off the bed. "Yeah, Padme finally had a full screening and it looks like we're having twins!"

Obi-Wan stared at Anakin with a closed lip smile. The young man seemed so relaxed. A far cry from the angry confusion that had plagued him mere weeks previous.

"Congratulations you two," Obi-Wan said. His eyes landed on Anakin's new hand. "How's it healing?"

"Hm?" Anakin was distracted, but Obi-Wan couldn't blame him, instead finding it rather amusing. When Anakin finally caught on he lifted his hand to his face and said, "Oh! Right. The port is healing nicely, but it'll take some time getting used to the lack of sensation. I mean. . . there's phantom pain still, and while the pressure sensors in the hand are the most advanced available, it doesn't quite. . . _feel_ like I'm touching things. It's weird."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Well, it is a machine attached to flesh."

"Don't make it creepy, Obi-Wan," Anakin slumped down in a chair set against the wall.

"My apologies," Obi-Wan laughed. He sobered quickly and asked, "Have you heard the news?"

"Yeah," Anakin sighed. "Never thought I'd have something in common with Dooku."

"Try not to view it as a punishment, Anakin."

"No I get it," he stretched his arms to the ceiling, almost groaning as he rid his back of its tension. "I won't fight this probation period. I know the council just wants to make sure I'm not going to give in to my anger and go on a killing spree."

"Perhaps it would be best to be less blasé Anakin," Obi-Wan's brows pulled together in worry. "Your watchers will see that as cause for concern."

Anakin sighed and rubbed a hand wearily across his face. "I just want to put it all behind me," he said.

"I understand," Obi-Wan said. "But you must understand the council's concerns."

"I do," he said. "Doesn't mean I have to like it. The monthly session with the council is going to be a real hoot. Plus, I don't like that Padme and the kids will be forced to live among the Jedi for so long, because I already know she doesn't plan to take them away until I'm allowed to leave with them."

"It's all right, Anakin," Padme tried to soothe. "Naboo will still be there when your probation is over."

"I think what bothers me most is that right now we don't even know where the Jedi will end up," Anakin said. "Which means I don't know where my family will end up."

Obi-Wan walked into the room and crouched down in front of Anakin. He placed his hands on the armrests of Anakin's chair. "Do you trust me?" He asked.

Anakin frowned, then sighed. "After everything. . . how could I not?"

Obi-Wan smiled and brought a hand up to Anakin's face. He gently tapped his cheek, then stood and stepped away. "There is great change on the horizon," he said. "You may find you enjoy the time you're forced to spend with us."

"I've never enjoyed anything I was _forced_ to do," Anakin said to Obi-Wan's retreating back.

At the doorway Obi-Wan turned back to face Anakin with a lopsided grin. "My friend, of that I am well aware," he laughed, then stepped out of the room and headed back down the corridor.

He hadn't gotten more than seven paces when Anakin's voice loudly drifted towards his ears.

"You're hiding something, Obi-Wan!"

He only barely heard Padme's near scandalised rebuke, telling Anakin to hush in the quiet halls of the medcenter. Obi-Wan's eyes lit with quiet amusement as he headed outside, back into the bright morning light.

* * *

SEVENTEEN MONTHS LATER

Creek water trickled quickly along the bedrock beneath great canopies of green. The white bark of the native forests played host to various woodchipper birds. Not to mention the squirlots that, for some reason, liked to throw empty seeds on anything that moved.

Obi-Wan warded away the ninth empty shell thrown at him in as many minutes, and shook his head in amusement. Nearby, younglings were attempting to catch the squirlots, but their burrows deep within the tree stems, and their agile leaping from branch to branch made the game nearly impossible to win for the children.

"Master, they're out of control," ten year old Talsi Yutal all but sighed next to him, referring to the Jedi younglings running every which way in the forest around them.

"Corralling them is good practice for you," Obi-Wan said.

"Good practice for what?" She asked aghast, as though the idea that something equally trying would one day come along was worse than tracking through swamp sludge without boots.

"For when you have your own padawan, of course," Obi-Wan said, careful to keep his serene mask in place. Inside he was a mess of mirth. The girl's expressions were just too amusing.

"I'm not even a padawan yet!" Talsi sighed, but not in any form of disappointment, rather, it seemed she was a bit overwhelmed as another youngling tripped over a rock and started sniffling.

"You may become one sooner than you think," Obi-Wan said as he nudged her forward, towards the youngling.

She turned back to give him a suspicious look, then focused her attention on the youngling. Obi-Wan allowed his amusement to stretch across his face as soon as her back was turned.

"Still as mischievous as ever, I see," Adi Gallia said as she walked up beside him. "The older you get the more you remind me of Master Yoda."

"I suppose I _have_ started going grey," Obi-Wan said as he tugged at the hair in front of his ears.

"Started?" Adi raised her eyebrows and gave him a _look_. "You've been going grey for years, Obi-Wan."

"Are you jealous, Master Gallia?" Obi-Wan grinned. The Tholothian Jedi's face was lined with age, but her hair had not yet suffered the same fate as Obi-Wan's copper strands, and likely never would.

"Only of the spring in your step and the youth of your knees," she said.

"Come now, master," Obi-Wan grinned. "You're not even sixty yet."

"And you're not even forty!"

Obi-Wan had no response for that and simply laughed.

"It still amazes me," Adi continued. "How one so young can be so wise. You've brought crucial changes to the Jedi Order."

"Not all believe the changes have been good," Obi-Wan said as the smile faded from his lips.

"Old grouches set in their ways," Adi scoffed and waved a dismissive hand. "One would have to be Force-blind not to feel the clarity in the currents that were once so clouded. You were right. The Jedi had become too dogmatic in their views of the Force. We may not be there yet, and we may not be for a long time, but the reforms are going well."

Obi-Wan nodded his head in agreement. "It helps that we now have the time and freedom for the necessary introspection," he said.

"Freedom?" Adi questioned as they began walking back along the path, towards the new home of the Jedi Order.

"Slavery exists in many forms," Obi-Wan said. "Some we're not even aware of until something drastic occurs. Tell me, Master Gallia, do you think the Jedi would ever have considered leaving the Republic, making these changes, if the Sith hadn't nearly destroyed us?"

"Well we certainly wouldn't be breathing new life into Ossus' wastelands," she said. "The Agricorp Jedi are doing amazing work here."

"They certainly are," Obi-Wan stretched out his hand to touch the sap green leaves of a sproutling. "A few decades and Ossus will be back to its green beginnings."

"But to answer your question I have to ask one," Adi said as they stepped out from beneath the tree canopies and onto the steps leading to the Jedi Temple's front courtyard. "Is it fair to assume you believe the Jedi Order was enslaved by the Republic?"

"To its will, certainly, but it didn't start out that way," Obi-Wan said. "Yet in the end the Jedi Order lost sight of its own values precisely because of the power the Republic had over it."

"Lost sight of the will of the Force."

"Yes," Obi-Wan tugged at his beard, then grinned. "Really, the Sith ended up doing us a favour."

Adi grew subdued and came to a slow stop. Obi-Wan turned to regard her carefully.

"Do you truly believe that, Obi-Wan?" She asked softly.

Obi-Wan could practically see her revisit the memory of her once padawan. He closed the distance between them and placed his hands gently on her shoulders.

"In the small sphere of my own world? No, never," he said with a gentle tone. "But for the Jedi Order as a whole? Absolutely."

"It's never just one thing, is it, Obi-Wan?" Adi raised a single eyebrow at him, her blue eyes practically piercing his soul.

Obi-Wan grinned. "Balance in all things, Master Gallia," he said.

They said their goodbyes then, Adi heading off into the Temple, and Obi-Wan heading out towards the small spaceport bordering on the temple grounds. He made his way to the Corellian freighter that had become such a familiar sight. The ramp was lowered, so Obi-Wan invited himself in and nearly collided face first with Anakin. Jedi reflexes saved them both from a bloody nose.

"In a hurry are we?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Yes!" Anakin breathed out as he rushed down the ramp. Obi-Wan followed with a shake of his head, then promptly leaped out of the way as Anakin picked up two large cases and barrelled straight back to the ramp. "A little help?"

Obi-Wan shook his head again and picked up the remaining two cases. He carried them aboard and took them down to the cargo hold where Anakin began securing them for the journey.

"I had no idea babies needed this much stuff," Anakin said.

"Oh I doubt they do," Obi-Wan said, then lowered his voice. "Padme is used to a different lifestyle compared to you and I."

Anakin sighed.

"Relax!" Obi-Wan grinned.

"We're taking babies on a trip through hyperspace, Obi-Wan," Anakin whispered. "How can I relax?"

"You can always keep them asleep for the journey with a sleep-suggestion," Obi-Wan said with a shrug.

"You're joking," Anakin said.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.

"You're joking!" Anakin laughed. "Padme would kill me!"

"Could always put her to sleep as w—"

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin burst out laughing, then forced a frown on his face and pointed a finger at his old master. "That's not funny."

"It was a _little_ funny,"Obi-Wan said, then allowed the mirth to bubble through his voice box. "I'm going to miss you Jedi Ambassador Skywalker."

Anakin groaned. "Don't call me that," he pleaded.

"Why not?" Obi-Wan asked. "It _is_ your official title. Jedi Ambassador to Naboo."

"Yeah I'm just not one for titles and frills and things," Anakin scrunched up his face as though he'd stepped on something disgusting. "At least not among friends."

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said, his expression serious. "You married a queen."

"Shut up," Anakin laughed and climbed out of the hold. Obi-Wan followed with a grin on his face.

They left the ship and stood on the tarmac. Obi-Wan watched as Anakin absorbed the site of the Ossus temple one last time before he left.

"I didn't think I'd ever be a Jedi Knight," Anakin said after a while. "After Tatooine I didn't think I'd ever want to be."

"And now?" Obi-Wan asked.

"You're a great mentor, Obi-Wan. I'd have been completely lost without you," Anakin rubbed at a grease stain on his knuckle. "I owe you more than my life."

"You owe me nothing," Obi-Wan said seriously. His expression quickly turned mischievous again. "Well," he said. "Maybe you owe me a visit every once in a while. Who knows how busy the council will keep me. I might not see you for years if you don't come to me."

"Easy enough," Anakin said, then pulled Obi-Wan in for a hug. "Take care of yourself."

"You too, Anakin," the greying Jedi Master said as they pulled away from each other.

Obi-Wan stayed on the tarmac until well after the Corellian freighter disappeared into the upper atmosphere. He kept his eyes on the sky, and simply watched the clouds roll by. He stretched his senses and felt completely at peace upon sensing the vibrancy of the Force binding the beings of Ossus together.

There was much work still to do—there would be for years to come—but Obi-Wan allowed himself that moment on the tarmac to simply be.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

Obi-Wan blinked, then frowned as he dropped his eyes from the sky. He heard footsteps coming from his left, where he knew moments earlier a ship had landed. It was a woman who had spoken, and she sounded familiar. He turned to his left and was struck speechless.

"I almost didn't recognise you with that beard," she smiled. "It has been a long time, Obi-Wan."

"Satine," Obi-Wan managed to say, still half dazed by her unexpected appearance. He quickly shook himself back to form and said, "Welcome to Ossus, Duchess. If you're here you must be in need of Jedi assistance?"

"My people, yes," she said as she came to a stop in front of him. "There's been some civil unrest of late. I come hoping the Jedi can help me find a peaceful solution."

"Right this way," Obi-Wan said. He indicated with his left hand and held out his right elbow for her to take. Her guard watched him closely, but he ignored them to study the woman before him.

When she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, Obi-Wan felt a touch of the Force. Her eyes met his in surprise, and he wondered if somehow, she had felt it too.

"It's good to see you," Obi-Wan said, voice gentle and sincere.

The duchess must have been able to see something in the way he looked at her, because her face grew contemplative. She brought a hand up to trace the scar running down the right side of his face, then said, "Such hardships you must have faced."

"All past," Obi-Wan said. "I'd much rather focus on the present."

"Still as charming as ever, I see."

"I do try, duchess."

* * *

END

* * *

A/N: In hindsight I can say that I may have tackled too great a tale for my first foray into novel-length fanfiction. There are so many things I now feel I could have, and perhaps should have, expanded upon and explored with more clarity. However, I am satisfied with what I managed to do here. I learned a great deal from it.

I may be back later this year with a new story, but it likely won't be as expansive or lengthy as Resolve I-III has been. I have many ideas, but I haven't quite decided which one to develop. Right now I don't even have a computer, so there are some real life challenges to overcome before I can start moonlighting as an aspiring author again.

To everyone who has read this right up until the last word of the last chapter; Thank you for going on this journey with me. I hope it was an enjoyable experience.

To everyone who has reached out with kind words; Your appreciation and encouragement means a great deal to me.

May the Force be with you.


End file.
